


'Tis the Season

by jane_x80



Category: NCIS
Genre: Celebrations, Christmas Dinner, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:17:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8833615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_x80/pseuds/jane_x80
Summary: 'Tis the Season for stalking! Tony has a stalker, an FBI agent who's become obsessed with him, and McGee and Gibbs work together to try and protect him, despite his protests. Gibbs even goes so far as to pretend to be Tony's boyfriend to throw the stalker, to no avail. Enter Jackson Gibbs who thinks their 'relationship' is real, and add to the fact that it's almost Christmas, how is Tony going to get himself out of this mess?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [josgotglock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/josgotglock/gifts).



> This story is an AU set during the Christmas of Season 7. What happened in s07e10 Faith does not happen, although Jackson Gibbs does turn up at Gibbs' for Christmas.
> 
> EDIT 2 JAN 2017: I am adding more to these notes (both beginning and end notes).
> 
> The story is for josgotglock. I was so pleased to get jo, because she has been so supportive of me, always leaving such lovely encouraging comments on my stories, and I was excited to write her something that hopefully she will like.
> 
> This was her prompt:  
> Pairings: Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs or Anthony DiNozzo/Timothy McGee
> 
> Any Rating
> 
> Here are some of my likes:  
> * Competent Tony  
> * Hurt/Comfort Tony  
> * Romance  
> * Gibbs in love with Tony - Clueless Tony to Gibbs feelings  
> * Tony leaving  
> * Jackson/Tony Gpa/Gson relationship behind Gibbs back
> 
> Some of my dislikes:  
> * TIVA  
> * BDSM  
> * Death fics involving Tony or Gibbs (please don't kill either of them)  
> * Rape/Torture (I like a little whump, but really don't care for the hard core stuff)  
> \-----
> 
> I think I hit all but the Tony Leaving part. it just didn't fit in with this story but I hope jo, you still enjoyed this story.

It was about a week before Christmas and Gibbs was doing his usual thing, loitering where he was out of sight but within hearing of the MCRT bullpen when he heard the hushed conversation. DiNozzo had been acting different the last week or so, since his return to the MCRT from his temporary assignment to the FBI for a top secret undercover operation. The op had been successfully completed and Tony had been instrumental in it, but now Tony was back with the MCRT. He had initially seemed to be happy to be back, but Gibbs was worried because in the past week, he had become quiet and withdrawn. And a quiet and withdrawn Anthony DiNozzo was always something to worry about. Gibbs had to figure out what the hell was wrong with his man so he could fix it.

“You can’t just let him do this to you,” McGee was whispering at his Senior Field Agent.

“There’s not much I can do about it, McGee,” Tony replied quietly. Tiredly.

“Yes there is. Report him, Tony,” McGee urged him.

Tony rubbed his eyes. “And say what, McGee? I didn’t even work with him so I can’t claim harassment.”

“No means no, Tony,” McGee was deathly serious. “Even if you’re a man and a federal agent, no means no. Anything else is just wrong.”

Tony glared at the junior agent. “I’m not some fucking damsel in distress.”

“I never said you were,” McGee rolled his eyes. “But he can’t just keep bothering you like this.”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t need anyone to know anything, Tim.”

McGee threw up his hands, sighing noisily. “This isn’t going to end well, Tony,” he muttered, softly but with an intensity that made Gibbs prickle with concern for DiNozzo. “You can’t keep pretending it isn’t happening.”

“What the hell do you think is going to happen, even if I report this, huh?” Tony hissed in an undertone. “I mean, really, all I’m going to get is that the cops will think I’m gay and I can’t control my boyfriends.”

McGee made a strangled sound of anger. “Stop worrying about what other people might think!”

“Cops are a weird bunch, Probie. And gay cops? Not a good idea. Not even in this day and age. They think I’m gay and the next time we need backup, there’ll be ‘delays’ or ‘excuses’ and one of us will end up dead. I will not let that happen to you or Ziva or the Boss, McGee!”

“So it’s just better if one day you don’t show up at work and we find that you’ve been murdered by your stalker?”

“He’s not a stalker!”

“Are you even listening to yourself? The man was waiting for you after work yesterday,” McGee insisted. “I saw him. And he followed you home. I know you saw him tailing you. And I saw him tailing you again this morning. He’s following you around.”

“So some guy is following me around. Big fucking deal.”

“He’s messing with your head!”

Tony growled. “ _You’re_ messing with my head!”

“You know I’m right.”

Tony gave him a cutting look which McGee returned, making Gibbs cheer for him. Little Timothy McGee standing up to his Senior Field Agent when he needed to. A good thing.

“Did you tell him you were seeing someone?” McGee continued.

“I’m not going to drag some woman into this mess!”

“Drag Ziva in! She can take care of herself.”

Gibbs watched as Tony grabbed McGee’s wrist. “Do _not_ drag Ziva into this,” he snarled. “I don’t need her knowing _anything_ about this!”

McGee sighed. “Tell him you have a boyfriend then.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah. That’s gonna go over real well, McGee. The guy’s been stalking me,” he said tiredly.

“Ha!” McGee crowed. “Got you to admit it!”

“The point being,” Tony ignored him, “that he knows that all I do is work and go home. He knows I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“You’ve come out with me a couple times this last week. And didn’t you have dinner with the Boss over the weekend?”

“Um, McGee,” Tony was gentle, “not to be mean, but you have a girlfriend. She went out with us once while this has been going on. Remember? Pretty sure the guy didn’t miss that. You can’t pose as my boyfriend, McAlreadyTaken.”

“And Gibbs?”

Tony snorted in disgust. “You expect me to tell some guy that I’m dating Gibbs so he’ll stop sniffing around me?”

“Gibbs would totally be a deterrent.”

“Gibbs would totally deter _me_ from living too, if he ever found out he was fake dating me, McGee!” Tony snapped.

“At least tell Gibbs what’s going on,” McGee said, not giving up. “He’ll know what to do.”

The scornful look Tony gave McGee was priceless. “Tell Gibbs?” he said disbelievingly. “Tell Gibbs what, exactly? That some guy keeps hounding me and oh, hey, it’s my fault because I let him buy me a drink at a club and then he saw me at work and now I can’t get rid of him? What part of ‘I let him buy me a drink at a club’ makes you think Gibbs will be okay with this?”

“He’s not a bigot.”

“Of course he’s not,” Tony said impatiently. “But he does expect us to be able to take care of ourselves and extricate ourselves from stupid shit in our personal lives.”

“Buying you a drink doesn’t entitle him to anything you don’t consent to,” McGee lectured Tony.

“Oh my god, we’re going to talk about _consent_ now?” Tony’s hands fisted in his lap.

“Even if you had sex with him…”

“Which I _definitely_ did not!” Tony shuddered at the thought.

“Even if you _had_ , no still means no. Each and every single time.”

“I fucking know that, okay?” Tony hissed. “And I’m done talking about it. Nothing is going to happen. He’ll move on.”

“This isn’t like putting your name on a herpes website, Tony. He’s armed and dangerous. It would be your word against his, and you don’t want to go through that again, Tony.” McGee gives him a sad look, reminding him of the whole Michael Rivkin debacle where Tony had had to defend his actions again and again, to Vance, to the NCIS Internal Review Board, and even to Eli David himself.

“You think I don’t know that?” Tony slumped in his chair. “Nothing I can do but just wait it out. He’ll get tired of me and move on.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Tony said. “He’ll move on. Eventually.”

“You keep saying that but you don’t even believe it yourself.”

Tony buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. “Enough, McGee.”

“How many bodies have we come across who said that about their stalkers?” McGee asked softly.

“I can take care of myself, you know?” Tony shook his head.

“You don’t deserve this, Tony.”

Tony sighed. “He’ll find someone else to obsess about.”

“You keep telling yourself that. But you said so yourself that he’s FBI, which means he’s armed and he has resources at his fingertips.”

“Don’t blow this out of proportion…”

“ _You_ just said he was obsessing about you, Tony,” McGee cut him off. “You can’t have it both ways.”

“There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Tell Gibbs,” McGee insisted.

“No!”

“Tell. Gibbs.”

Gibbs felt it was time to interject. “Tell me what?” he walked in, smirking inwardly when both his agents jumped. McGee immediately retreated to his desk and DiNozzo busied himself with the folder in his hand.

“Nothing, Boss,” Tony said crisply.

“Tell me what?” Gibbs glared at both his men, blue eyes flashing dangerously. “Is there something I should be aware of?”

“No, Boss,” Tony said firmly.

Gibbs caught McGee giving DiNozzo a look and jerking his head towards him, mouthing ‘tell him’ but DiNozzo resolutely shook his head and glared back, silencing the younger man. McGee threw up his hands and sighed noisily but dropped the subject and turned back to the cold cases they were reviewing.

Gibbs looked sharply at both men and realized that neither of them were going to tell him anything at that point. He decided that he could bide his time and walk out with DiNozzo after work that evening. He needed to see DiNozzo’s FBI stalker for himself. The one that had bought him a drink and apparently didn’t understand that no meant no. The one that Tony claimed not to have had sex with.

The thought that Tony had gone out to a club where a man had felt it was safe to buy Tony a drink made Gibbs angry. And the thought that Tony had felt that it was safe for him to accept this drink made Gibbs itch under his skin. He’d always thought that the man was completely straight. But now, he had to rethink that position. And the fact that McGee, of all people, knew this tidbit about DiNozzo made him even angrier. Why had Tony told McGee that he was interested in men and not told Gibbs? He’d been the man’s boss longer than Tony had been at his three previous police departments put together.

He snarled his way through the day, so grumpy that even Abby stayed out of his way. He sent Ziva and McGee out to re-question a witness despite the fact that Tony had been the one to come up with the lead in a cold case, but he ruthlessly fought down the need to take the hurt look out of Tony’s green eyes when he gave McGee and David the order. Based on what he’d heard Tony and McGee discussing earlier, there was no way he was sending the man out in the field that day. He wanted to gauge the stalker first before he would let Tony out in the field out of his sight. Someone needed to look out for the man if he was going to insist on burying his head in the sand about his stalker.

And when McGee and Ziva returned, optimistic that the lead Tony had turned up was viable, Gibbs sent McGee and David to pick up their suspect, even though Tony had been standing by his desk and already collecting his gun and badge.

McGee gave Tony an apologetic look while Ziva grinned smugly at him as they left. Tony put his gun and badge back into his desk drawer, kicked his backpack back under his desk and threw himself in his chair. He tried to give beseeching looks to Gibbs, but the older man turned a blind eye to the big, sad eyes.

“Goin’ for coffee,” Tony muttered, grabbing his gun and badge and pulling on his coat and scarf.

“I’ll come with,” Gibbs told him, ignoring the surprise in Tony’s face. He knew that the younger man was just doing a coffee run to regain his composure but no way in hell was Gibbs letting him go out of the Navy Yard without an escort. This FBI stalker guy was out there, and could be lying in wait for him.

“I’ll bring you back a coffee,” Tony objected. “I always do.”

“I’m walking with you,” Gibbs told him sternly.

Sighing, Tony nodded, and his shoulders slumped dejectedly. Gibbs did feel bad for the younger man, knowing that he was only making it harder for him to go back to normal. He knew that Tony was in all probability going over every single thing he’d done in the past week or so to try to understand why Gibbs was punishing him by benching him so thoroughly. And the older man knew that Tony would immediately assume that he had done something wrong and try to figure it out in order to fix it. Tony happily took on and absorbed everybody’s guilt, assuming the burden whether the burden was his to bear or not. But like McGee, all Gibbs could think about was the number of bodies that they’d had to investigate that had been stalked by someone and that either the victims themselves or the authorities hadn’t taken seriously.

Tony was not going to be one of those bodies, he vowed to himself. If he had to escort the man to the head every single time in order to keep him safe, then that was what he would do. And he wouldn’t even need to do this all by himself. What he’d heard of the conversation Tony had had with McGee meant that the junior agent would cooperate if he took the young man aside for a private conversation.

The question was, how long would Tony allow them to babysit him? The ex-cop was far from stupid, despite the persona that he cultivated. He would spot the fact that both Gibbs and McGee weren’t allowing him to go anywhere by himself (Gibbs would make sure of that after he had his private chat with McGee) and would then balk at their supposed treatment of him. This, after however long of Tony privately flogging himself for this imagined error that he would feel Gibbs was punishing him for would not be a good combination. And it being so close to the Christmas holidays, one that Tony always tried to work so as to give the NCIS agents who had families and other commitments a chance to be with them, it was always a difficult holiday for the man. Gibbs knew that he hadn’t had any contact with his father in a long time and was basically all alone in the world.

He tried not to let his heart break for the younger man. He was a marine, dammit. None of that. Even though those sad green eyes always got to him, Gibbs had gotten very good at resisting them. He’d had years of hiding his feelings for Tony. He’d continue to do so as long as the man worked for him. There were rules about this. Although before this, his reasons for keeping his feelings to himself had mostly been because he’d thought Tony had no interest in men. Now knowing that in fact, Tony wasn’t as straight as he portrayed himself to be, Gibbs started wondering. Could he stretch Rule 12? Why did he have that rule anyway? Jenny? Well, she made her own bed and now she was six feet under in it. But could he break that rule with Tony and get away with it? Hell, just because the man was interested in men didn’t mean that he would be interested in Gibbs in any way shape or form. Gibbs was just some broken down marine, a hard, stubborn man who knew what he was and didn’t even attempt to soften it or hide it from the world.

Gibbs sighed inwardly, surreptitiously glancing at the man walking quietly in his customary position, a little to his right and a half step behind him. Still ready to cover him at a moment’s notice, if necessary. Gibbs growled to himself. That position put Tony in the prime position to cover his six but at a disadvantage to watch out for his own self, and where Gibbs was walking meant that he wouldn’t be able to cover him adequately either. Ideally, in this situation, Gibbs should be where Tony was, ready to cover _his_ six. But there was no way DiNozzo would ever allow that. Still, Gibbs needed to do something. Without thinking about it too much, he grabbed Tony’s arm and yanked him closer so they were walking apace instead of separated by that crucial half step.

Tony squawked and stared at Gibbs in surprise. He stumbled over his feet before he caught his balance. His feet kept moving, but only because Gibbs still had his arm in a tight hold and Gibbs was still walking.

“Boss?” he asked, eyes wide with confusion. “What’s going on, Boss?”

“Walk with me for once, would you?” Gibbs muttered.

“What? I _am_ walking with you!”

“Stop being my watchdog.”

“But that’s what I’m here for? To watch your six,” Tony was totally confused. “Isn’t it?”

Gibbs sighed. How could he answer this question? ‘Yes, DiNozzo, normally you are supposed to watch my six, it’s one of the reasons why you’re on my team, because you are excellent at watching my six. No one better at it. But today, I need to be the one watching your fucking six because you have some fucking FBI agent stalking you’ just didn’t seem to cut it.

He settled for “Just shut up and walk next to me like a normal human being this one time, DiNozzo.”

Tony blinked in confusion but he followed the order to the letter. He walked next to Gibbs, and slowly the blue-eyed man released his arm, giving him a warning glance as he almost drew back, an automatic move borne of years of working together. Still giving his boss confused glances, Tony stayed abreast of Gibbs as they crossed the street to the coffee shop.

Gibbs was silent while they completed their transaction, leaving Tony to order and flirt with the baristas, although he made sure he paid for both their coffees. He sneered at Tony’s frou-frou salted caramel pumpkin macchi-whatever with some kind of otherworldly language used for cream and sugar, but wasn’t able to contain the smile when Tony took his first sip, closed his eyes and practically moaned with happiness.

Tony turned, caught Gibbs’ smile and smiled back at him and they walked out of the shop companionably. Gibbs opened the door and gestured to let Tony through first, even though usually Tony would be the one doing that. Tony gave him a sidelong suspicious look and practically jumped through the doorway, as if expecting the older man to close the door on him or pull some kind of prank, do something to pull the rug out from under his feet, but Gibbs just followed him out, sipping calmly from his own cup.

Tony gave him a long look but decided to keep the peace. Understanding the glint in Gibbs’ eye, he positioned himself next to Gibbs again and the older man nodded his approval. Without thinking about it, Tony threw Gibbs a grin, still wondering about the change in their walking arrangement but going with it without questioning Gibbs, at least not right away, and the older man couldn’t help but grin back.

Tony snorted and shook his head, still grinning while Gibbs gave a quiet grunt and they stood and waited for the WALK signal to come on. Gibbs breathed deeply, catching a whiff of DiNozzo’s spicy aftershave. God, the man always smelled so damned good. He sipped his coffee, trying to shake off the thought that his Tony was amenable to having a drink with a man. Having sex with men.

Not _his_ Tony, he told himself, clamping down on his own desires. No matter how much he wanted it.

“Tony!” a voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned to see a man take hold of Tony’s arm right before the WALK signal came on.

“Oh, hey, Agent Creighton,” Tony sounded surprised, and he tried to pull his arm away, gesturing to the traffic lights with his coffee cup. “I’m, uh, just headed back to work.”

The man tightened his grip and Gibbs turned and growled, eyeing the hand on Tony’s arm until the other man let him go. Gibbs stared at the man, taking him in – he was tall, maybe three inches taller than DiNozzo, and he had maybe fifty pounds over DiNozzo, all of it muscle. He was good looking in an all American sort of way – square jaw, blue eyes. Short blond hair. Nice suit. Maybe five years older than DiNozzo. Gibbs’ eye twitched. This was the kind of man Tony was interested in?

“Can I have a minute?” the blond said to Tony, even though his eyes were on Gibbs, looking him over.

“No,” Tony said tightly. “I’m working.”

Gibbs pushed Tony aside and moved to put himself in between Tony and the tall man. “He’s busy,” Gibbs told him, jerking his head to make Tony leave.

“Agent Gibbs, right?” Creighton smiled, all teeth and not even pretending to make it genuine. “Tony’s boss?”

“Special Supervisory Agent Gibbs,” Gibbs gave him his full title, returning the exact same smile. “Go follow up on that lead, DiNozzo.”

“Uh, but…” Tony started stammering.

“SAC Mark Creighton,” the man nodded to Gibbs. “FBI.”

Gibbs gave him a bored look. “Go on, DiNozzo.”

“You said you were coming with me,” Tony gritted out, reaching out a tentative hand and putting it on Gibbs’ shoulder. “C’mon Boss. We’ll see ya Agent Creighton.”

“After work,” Creighton declared.

“No!” Tony almost shouted. “I’m not available after work. You know how work is, cases don’t care about a normal schedule. Boss, can we go? Let’s go. Now. Please?”

Gibbs looked at Creighton, blue eyes steely. “DiNozzo will be busy after work. Tonight and every night, in fact,” he declared, and there was no mistaking his tone. Pure possessiveness. Nobody was claiming Tony’s affections, especially not some smarmy FBI agent, if Tony wasn’t handing it out.

“What?” both Tony and Creighton exclaimed.

Gibbs turned and gave Tony a predatory smile. “His ass is mine during and after work,” he winked at Creighton. “You should remember that.”

Then he grabbed DiNozzo’s hand, laced their fingers and yanked the flabbergasted man across the street, jaywalking instead of waiting for the next WALK signal. And because it was Gibbs, cars stopped for him as he calmly walked, pulling the younger man along with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Gibbs kept a hold of DiNozzo’s hand, pulling him along briskly into their building, ignoring Tony’s panicked looks. He shoved Tony ahead of him to go through their building security, nodding politely to the security staff who were openly staring at them in curiosity. Then he herded Tony into the elevator, jabbed the button for their floor and stood, entire body relaxed, until the door closed. As the metal box began to rise, Gibbs slammed his hand on the emergency stop button and the elevator stalled, machinery whining a little and the lights dimming.

“This what you didn’t want to tell me about earlier?” he asked, his tone menacing.

“Uh, i-it’s nothing Boss,” Tony stammered, eyes wild, refusing to meet Gibbs’ eyes.

Gibbs stood, silently staring at his second, knowing that Tony wouldn’t be able to resist babbling something if he stood his ground and refused to say anything else. He watched as Tony started sweating, nervously sipping his coffee, and trying to convince him that he shouldn’t concern himself with Creighton.

Finally, Tony wound down, eyes downcast, finally running out of excuses. He looked up and sighed, seeing the resolve in Gibbs’ eyes. He nodded.

“What d’you want to know?” he asked quietly.

“Who is he and why is he following you around?”

“I met Creighton at a club. I let him buy me a drink. That was all. Then when I was back at the Hoover Building finishing up the last of that op last week, he saw me.”

Gibbs’ eyes bored into the younger man. “What else?”

“He asked me out again when he saw me last week,” Tony practically whispered. “I turned him down. Nicely.”

“You turn him down at the club, too?”

“He was weird when we had drinks. Gave off a douchebag vibe. I had a gut feeling. So I walked away from him that night. Went straight home in fact,” Tony shuddered at the memory.

“And?” Gibbs demanded, wanting Tony to tell him everything.

Tony sighed and leaned back against a wall, purposely banging the back of his head hard against it twice. “Since he saw me last week he’s kind of, you know? Been… following me around? A little…” he finally choked out.

“Stalking you, then?”

“Well, I don’t know that I’d call it stalking, necessarily…”

“McGee said he followed you home last night, and back to work this morning,” Gibbs said grimly.

“McTattleTale shouldn’t have gone to you about this!” Tony looked both furious and devastated at the same time.

“He didn’t. I heard your conversation earlier.”

Tony stared, mouth open at Gibbs. “What?”

Gibbs stared back until the younger man turned away, cheeks flaming. And didn’t Gibbs just love that flushed look on the man’s face. It was not something anyone saw very often as not many things flustered Tony DiNozzo enough to make him blush.

“Is that why you didn’t send me to talk to the witness or pick up the perp?” Tony finally asked.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. “Not about to send you out there when some armed guy is stalking you,” he huffed.

“I can take care of myself!” Tony objected. “I’m a fucking field agent!”

“I know,” Gibbs agreed mildly. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try to keep you out of harm’s way when this thing’s got nothing to do with the job. I don’t need you out there, distracted because this guy is _stalking you_ , and getting yourself hurt or killed because of it!”

Tony gaped at him again.

“McGee run a background check on Creighton?” Gibbs asked, saying the man’s name as if it was something he’d just scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

Tony shook his head mutely.

“I’ll ask him to do it,” Gibbs reactivated the elevator and it lurched a little as it resumed its ascent. “Meantime, pack a bag. You’re staying with me until this blows over.”

“ _What?_ ” Tony was completely shocked.

The elevator dinged and the doors open. Gibbs strode out followed by Tony who was trying to yell as quietly as he could.

“I can’t just run away and hide at your house like some… I don’t know… some breakable thing!” he objected.

Gibbs gave him a look which for once, Tony ignored.

“Look, this has nothing to do with work, and I can take care of this myself,” Tony argued. “I’ll take care of this. I’ll get rid of him. You don’t need to worry about this affecting me at work. You can’t bench me because of something personal. And there’s definitely no need for you to take me home and baby me…”

“Have I ever babied you?” Gibbs interrupted. “Ever?”

“No. You’re right. Poor choice of words on my part. But it’s still true that you don’t need me barging into your home, messing things up, interrupting your boat building and shit!”

“You have a problem with me making decisions?”

“No! Well, no, not at work… Not usually.”

“I told Creighton your ass is mine at work and out of it. Do you disagree?” Gibbs asked menacingly.

Tony stared at Gibbs, panting as if he’d been running hard before he turned away, face flushing again. “No,” he muttered.

“Good. You’ll pack some stuff and come stay with me until we get rid of Creighton.”

“Yes, Boss.” Tony threw himself in his chair, trying not to wring his hands, knowing that he’s lost this argument and trying to figure out how to fix it.

“When McGee and David get back, you can do the interrogation,” Gibbs told him before he sat down and focused on his computer. “Go prep for it.”

Tony sighed and covered his face, muttering softly to himself. What Gibbs heard made him want to laugh. Tony was swearing softly in Spanish and Italian. He always liked it when Tony did that. But he also knew that the younger man would understand, that giving him the interrogation was his way of apologizing for the whole benching him and forcing him to stay with him thing.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as Tony muttered for another minute or so, before he pulled himself together, shucked off his outerwear, and threw himself back into the work of preparing to interrogate the new suspect that McGee and David were bringing in. He smiled. Whatever crap was going on in Tony’s personal life, he always was good at pushing it aside to focus on the case. Another thing that Gibbs always liked about Tony.

Not that there was much that Gibbs didn’t like about Tony. For one thing, he certainly admired how Tony’s ass was always encased in well-fitting pants. He’d started wearing more suits since he first started working with Gibbs, but the suits were always designer suits, elegant, and always tailored to fit his lean frame. Which always meant that there was just enough tightness in the ass area to make him sneak peeks at said ass when he was strutting around. And it definitely meant that when he bent over and the pants stretched tight against his butt cheeks, Gibbs might find himself sweating a little, his own pants tightening in response.

Gibbs shook himself and looked away. He’d been staring right at DiNozzo while thinking such naughty thoughts. It was going to be hell to have the man in his house for days on end.

Gibbs sighed. He wasn’t sure if he wanted this Creighton guy to go away or stick around longer so he would have an excuse to keep DiNozzo near him. But then McGee called to say that they were on their way back with the suspect, and Gibbs, too, snapped his thoughts back to the case at hand, ready to back Tony up during the upcoming interrogation.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The perp folded within five minutes of DiNozzo sitting across from him. The cold case was resolved quickly and reports finalized and filed by the end of the day. DiNozzo tried to argue against staying at Gibbs’ again when they were all leaving after work, but Gibbs had just stared at him in the elevator.

“Why is Tony staying at your house, Gibbs?” Ziva asked. Unfortunately the whole team was leaving together.

“I’m not!” Tony denied it.

Gibbs stood, one eyebrow raised at him.

“Not for very long anyways…” Tony finally agreed.

“But why, exactly?” the Israeli woman was confused. “I would not think that Gibbs would enjoy your company, not even for one night, when he gets you all day long already!”

Gibbs snorted, wondering why Ziva couldn’t ever see DiNozzo differently. He thought about all the times he’d bundled DiNozzo to sleep it off in his guest room when the younger man came over and needed liquid courage to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him. And it was never a problem. Gibbs was glad to do it for him. Even though Gibbs hid his true feelings for DiNozzo, his affection for the man was no secret.

McGee turned his head back and forth to stare at Gibbs, seeing his determination at making Tony stay at his house, and then turning to Tony, before he chimed in. “It’s because Tony’s… boiler blew up. Isn’t that right, Tony?”

Tony gave him a surprised look but immediately covered it. “Right. Uh, yeah, Ziva. You know. Old building. Old boiler. Stuck with no hot water.”

“For how long?” Ziva wanted to know.

“As long as it takes them to fix it,” McGee said firmly.

Ziva’s brown eyes turned questioningly to Gibbs who just nodded.

“And you are… okay with this, Gibbs?” Ziva’s doubt was more than obvious.

“I live in a one bedroom,” McGee answered. “And I don’t have a couch. I have a virtual reality gaming recliner and it’s really awful to sleep in. Take my word for it.”

“You have a what?” Tony snorted, this time with laughter.

Gibbs turned and grinned approvingly at McGee. “Will you research the _boiler_ , Elf Lord?” the team lead asked, emphasizing the word a little, but saying it as a gentle request instead of an order and the nickname made McGee blush and grin. “If you have free time?”

McGee looked into Gibbs’ eyes, finally understanding how Tony was sometimes able to read Gibbs’ mind because clearly, Gibbs was asking him to look into Tony’s stalker. Clearly. Right?

“Oh, I’ll make time for this, Boss,” he told Gibbs. “I think it’s important that this boiler issue doesn’t keep sticking to Tony.”

Gibbs nodded, the corner of his mouth sort of turned up in an almost-grin.

And then it was Tony’s turn to look at his team lead and his Probie, turning his head back and forth before he sighed and shook his head sadly.

“And you know the kind of boiler Tony’s building has?” Gibbs continued.

McGee nodded, eyes wide and solemn. “I have its serial number and can begin researching it right away.”

“Keep me posted. You know I’m handy around the house and can help with it. Especially if it gets… troublesome.”

“Yes, Boss,” McGee said, grinning in relief at Tony. Gibbs could tell that the junior agent was pleased that he wasn’t the only one shouldering the burden of knowing about Tony’s FBI problem. And he comprehended clearly Gibbs’ veiled promise to help take care of it.

Ziva stared at her team for a long moment before she blew out a breath in exasperation. “I do not know why the boiler in Tony’s building is so fascinating but if you get thrown out of Gibbs’ house, Tony, do not come to my apartment expecting me to give you shelter.”

Tony shrugged. “I’m sure the boiler will be fixed very soon,” he said resolutely.

“There’s always McGee’s virtual reality gaming recliner,” Gibbs quipped.

Tony groaned but stopped objecting.

They trooped off the elevator and when Tony started towards his car, Gibbs cleared his throat and gave Tony a silent look. Shoulders drooping, DiNozzo nodded and trailed after Gibbs after half mumbling his goodnights to McGee and Ziva.

Gibbs kept half an eye on DiNozzo, sitting slumped next to him in the passenger seat, and half an eye on the car that had been tailing them from the Navy Yard. Gibbs had driven DiNozzo to his apartment and escorted him up, waiting for him while he packed. They’d ended up with a duffel bag, a bulky garment bag, and two heavy sacks of produce. DiNozzo had sheepishly pulled out a bunch of fresh produce out of his refrigerator and packed it in environmentally friendly reusable grocery sacks, ignoring Gibbs, cheeks flaming as he completed his task.

Gibbs gave him that look, the one that said that Tony hadn’t been truthful with him, and Tony had given him a guilty look and stammered something about it not being healthy to just eat take out and delivery every day. Gibbs had let it go then and helped him by picking up the duffel and the groceries, leaving him to carry his garment bag down to his car.

But the car was still carefully tailing them. Creighton must have been watching them the whole time, probably with binoculars. He knew to tail Gibbs’ car now, so he’d at least been watching close enough to see that Tony wasn’t driving his own car.

Gibbs glanced at Tony again. His face was turned to look out the window, but every so often Gibbs could see his eyes flick to the side view mirror by him and he’d adjust his angle in the seat a little. Tony was also checking out what was going on behind them. He knew that they were being followed.

“It’s good you left your car at work,” Gibbs murmured.

“Huh?” startled, Tony turned to him, finally meeting his eyes.

“Creighton might vandalize it,” Gibbs’ eyes flicked to the rear view mirror and he watched the headlights of the G-ride, a dark SUV, four cars behind them.

“Not my car!” Tony gasped.

Gibbs grunted.

Tony sighed. “I’m sorry, Gibbs,” he finally muttered. “I don’t even know why this is happening. I mean, I never encouraged him.”

“I know.”

“I know that I flirt and tease but that’s all pretty harmless. If I’m not interested then I make it clear up front.”

“I know, DiNozzo.”

“I made it very clear to him I wasn’t interested that night in the club,” Tony said earnestly. “I didn’t even finish the drink he bought me.”

“I _know_ , DiNozzo,” Gibbs told him.

Tony looked into Gibbs’ eyes before he nodded. “Thanks, Boss,” he sighed, leaning back against his seat, and Gibbs thought that he was finally relaxing after a week of being stressed out.

“McGee was right,” Gibbs gave him a sidelong glance. “No means no. No matter who says it.”

“I know,” Tony said sadly. “I know it. But there’s not much I can do about this. Not without having it all blow up in my face.”

“Gonna talk to Fornell.”

“No! Please, let’s not blow this out of proportion.”

“The man has been stalking you for a week, DiNozzo,” Gibbs snapped. “That is not appropriate!”

“But we have nothing on him! Nothing concrete.”

“We need to make someone at the FBI aware of what’s going on. You’re a Federal Agent. Anything happens to you, and _they’re_ gonna be the ones looking into everything. Better we tell them up front what we suspect.”

Tony buried his face in his hands. “Fuck my life,” he muttered.

“Won’t be so bad,” Gibbs said, smirking.

“Fornell hates my guts,” Tony whined. “He keeps trying to arrest me.”

“ _Sacks_ hates your guts. Fornell doesn’t dislike you. Much.”

When Tony looked at Gibbs, green eyes huge and disbelieving, Gibbs chuckled.

“We’ll figure this out and then you can go back to normal. OK?” he said softly.

Tony nodded morosely.

“Besides, my house isn’t the worse place you could’ve ended up in. There’s always McGee’s nerd chair.”

Tony snorted, shaking his head. “No. And really, thanks for volunteering to let me invade your house. I do appreciate it.”

Gibbs nodded.

“Even if you don’t have a TV.”

“I have a TV.”

“Even if you don’t have a TV that was made in the twenty-first century.”

“It’s a color TV!”

“And you’ve got no cable.”

“I do get the Farm Report.”

Tony rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips.

“You can help me with the boat,” Gibbs offered magnanimously.

“My lifelong dream!” Tony growled facetiously.

They both chuckled softly before lapsing into a comfortable silence. Gibbs kept watching the car following them in the rear view mirror while Tony checked the side view mirror obsessively.

“You’re going to be accompanied either by me or McGee at all times,” Gibbs told him.

“I’m not going to let one asshole douchebag change my entire life,” Tony insisted.

“If need be, we read Ziva in too,” Gibbs continued as if Tony hadn’t said a word.

“No. Not Ziva,” Tony begged. “Please…”

“Why?” Gibbs frowned at him. Things had been off between Tony and Ziva since she had been rescued from Somalia. Since _DiNozzo_ pulled off the rescue. Had Tony broken Rule 12 with Ziva somewhere along the way? Wait, was he even interested in women? Were all those conquests made up stories to hide that Tony preferred the company of men?

“She’ll take this too far. She’ll make me feel like I did something to Creighton to deserve this,” Tony answered, his voice soft. “I already feel like it’s my fault even though in my head I know it isn’t. But if she accused me of being a cocktease, even if she’s kidding, then…”

“We’ll only read her in if it becomes necessary,” Gibbs said soothingly.

“Okay,” Tony gulped. After another lull in the conversation, Tony cleared his throat. “You think he put a tracker on my car?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe even a bug. You should sweep for it. Your apartment, too.”

“He wouldn’t have broken into my apartment to bug it… Would he?”

Gibbs made a face. “Rule #8.”

“Never assume anything,” Tony agreed. “Should sweep your house too. I had dinner with you over the weekend. He might assume… things.”

Gibbs nodded. “We’ll do it first thing when we get home.”

Gibbs house was clear. Devoid of listening devices. Although Gibbs knew that that might change given that Tony was now going to be staying with him. They’d have to sweep the house every day. Gibbs pointed Tony to his guest room before he went and changed into a hoodie and jeans.

“Gonna work on the boat,” he told DiNozzo, who was puttering in the kitchen, putting the groceries away. The younger man had changed into a faded gray t-shirt with his fraternity greek letters on it, and an old, faded, ripped pair of jeans that hugged his ass and thighs in very, very good ways. Gibbs tore his eyes away from Tony’s pants, focusing on his face, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes.

“Order something when you’re hungry,” Gibbs pulled open a drawer with menus. “You know what I like.”

“Uh, Boss…”

“Also, try not to call me Boss when you’re staying at my house indefinitely.”

Tony swallowed audibly. “Right,” he said softly. “Gibbs, you mind if I, uh, cook? Dinner, I mean?”

Gibbs frowned at him. “Why?”

“It helps me relax,” Tony admitted, sounding pained.

Gibbs scrutinized him for a moment before he shrugged. “Knock yourself out. Use whatever’s in my fridge or pantry too,” he said. “Make yourself at home.”

Tony nodded, eyes down. Gibbs headed to the basement steps, but as he started down it, he turned back one last time.

“DiNozzo?”

“Yeah, Bo – I mean Gibbs?”

“Do not for any reason leave this house without me,” Gibbs said clearly. “Not even to get the paper or the mail. Got that?”

Tony nodded dejectedly. “Yeah. OK, Boss.”

This time Gibbs didn’t correct him. He grunted as he went downstairs. He lost himself in the soothing rhythm, sanding his boat gently. This one was going to turn out to be beautiful.

At some point, Gibbs was pulled from the hypnotic work when his nose registered a truly delicious smell. He sniffed the air, lifted his head, and frowned at the stairs. He heard irregular footsteps upstairs, and he could hear snippets of Tony’s voice. Did they have company? Quietly he went up to the kitchen and peeked.

Tony had earbuds stuffed in his ears and was shimmying around the kitchen, singing and dancing as he cooked. He was completely oblivious to Gibbs. And what Gibbs had heard was Tony singing along softly to the music. His voice was deep and melodious, singing what seemed to be a light-hearted song, seemingly telling the guy that there wasn’t anything between them, that he didn’t love him, and there was never going to be anything between them. Gibbs wanted to chuckle but he didn’t want to alert Tony to his presence yet. Tony wiggled his ass and executed a few complicated looking dance steps as he stirred the two different pots on the stove.

Gibbs watched as Tony put some sauce on his palm, blew on it, before he licked it, his pink tongue sneaking out and back in quickly. Tony frowned then rummaged through Gibbs’ cabinet, pulling out a little jar of basil from the very back. He opened it, sniffed it experimentally, shrugged and poured a little out in his palm before dumping it in the pot and stirring. He tasted it again, his tongue coming out and slipping back between his luscious lips, making Gibbs wonder what it would feel to have that tongue do that to him. Tony made an ‘it’s ok’ face before he washed his hands.

A different song came on, and Tony started to hum and sing along. This time he crooned a slow love song as he expertly minced fresh herbs. Gibbs watched Tony’s movements, realizing that Tony was much more at home in a kitchen than anyone would have thought. Tony swayed with the music, then flipped the knife end over end in his hand, catching it deftly before he resumed mincing again.

Gibbs swallowed. That little display of dexterity with a knife had made his dick twitch. Shit. He knew that DiNozzo had hidden depths, but that bit of knife play was making him hard. Willing his dick to shut the hell up, he steeled himself before walking into the kitchen.

Tony jumped, still skittish from the whole being stalked thing. He pulled his earbuds out of his ears and offered Gibbs a grin.

“Hey, we’re almost ready to eat. Let me know when you’re ready and it’ll take like ten minutes for everything to come together.”

“I’m ready whenever,” Gibbs said, moving to look at the stove. One deep pot was filled with what looked to be marinara sauce. But definitely not marinara that came out of one of the jars in Gibbs’ pantry. Tony had made marinara sauce from scratch it looked like. The other pot contained boiling water.

“Yeah?” Tony grinned. “Oh good. Cause I could eat.”

Gibbs watched as Tony pulled a zip-loc bag out of freezer. He salted the boiling water and emptied the bag into it.

“What’s that?” Gibbs nodded.

“Cheese tortellini,” Tony said, stirring it briefly and setting a timer. Then he pulled what looked to be a breaded piece of meat out of the pan it was shallow frying in, put it on a plate that had more pieces of meat and stuck it in the oven to keep it warm.

“And what else?”

“Chicken, and cheese tortellini with marinara sauce. Kind of my version of a chicken parmesan, I guess,” Tony shrugged. He dropped chopped garlic into the now-empty frying pan, sauteeing it in the oil, then ladled in a good helping of the marinara sauce. Salted and peppered it, and when the timer went off, he strained the pasta and threw it in the frying pan along with the minced herbs, shaking and tossing the pasta up in the air like a professional chef, mixing it in the sauce efficiently. He grabbed two dishes from Gibbs’ cabinet, divided the pasta evenly, then pulled the chicken out, plated it prettily on the pasta, ladled a little more sauce around it, scattered grated cheese on top and stuck the plates back in the oven.

“Living room?” Tony cocked his head as he opened the fridge and handed Gibbs a beer, taking one for himself too.

“Let’s eat here,” Gibbs gestured to the kitchen table.

Tony filled the sink with hot soapy water, put everything he didn’t need anymore in it, and Gibbs watched as he efficiently wiped up his kitchen table and all the counters. Tony was a very neat cook. His last ex-wife, while an excellent cook, had always made a huge mess in the kitchen every time she made food. And it had been Gibbs’ task to clean up. She cooked, he cleaned, she’d insisted. And Gibbs hadn’t really minded much. But with Tony, all he had to do was help get silverware and paper napkins.

Tony placed his plate in front of him, warning him that it was a hot plate, and the second plate for himself before he sat down.

Gibbs was staring at the food. Even his last ex-wife hadn’t made such beautiful food. This looked like it could’ve been served at a restaurant. Carefully, Gibbs cut a piece of the chicken, letting the gooey cheese stretch from his plate to his mouth.

He couldn’t stop himself from moaning. It was the tastiest, and most tender and moist piece of chicken breast he’d ever had. The marinara sauce was out of this world. He forked in a mouthful of pasta, and again moaned.

“Did you hand make the pasta too?” he asked around a mouthful of food.

Tony shrugged. “Yeah? Is it OK?” he sounded nervous and anxious.

“Fuck, DiNozzo. If I’d known you could cook like this, you’d be over here cooking for me every fucking weekend,” Gibbs told him.

Tony breathed out a sigh of relief and grinned at Gibbs. “Well, I’m glad you like it.”

“Cut the chatter. I’m busy eating,” Gibbs said, eyes twinkling as he continued shoving forkfuls of pasta and chicken into his mouth.

Tony laughed and started in on his own plate of food. They ate in companionable silence, meaning that Tony talked to Gibbs about movies and other crap, and Gibbs occasionally grunted a response. After the meal, Tony took Gibbs’ plate and dropped it in the sinkful of soapy water. There wasn’t anything left to scrape into the garbage and Gibbs thought Tony was pleased about that.

“I’ll clean up,” Gibbs offered.

“No biggie.”

“You cooked. I can help clean,” Gibbs started doing the dishes. Tony grabbed a clean dish towel and took on drying. Together, they made short work of cleaning up, and Gibbs was amazed at how easily they fell into it, and how comfortable it was, having Tony in his kitchen, doing the dishes with him. Afterwards, Tony told Gibbs he’d let the rest of the sauce cool before he froze it and went up to bed. Gibbs went back to the boat.


	3. Chapter 3

They’d been living together for a couple of days with relatively few issues. They’d gotten into a groove with each other. Tony cooked dinner and Gibbs cleaned up after, although Tony always helped. Gibbs slept on his couch like he preferred to do, and Tony occupied the guest room. They maintained their private spaces – Gibbs retreating to the basement for his solitude and Tony to the guest room with his laptop or a book when they needed to. But for the most part, it was amicable and they ate together, cleaned up together, and sometimes even sat and watched TV together in the living room. Right then, they were stopped at a grocery store after work, Gibbs pushing the shopping cart and Tony pulling things off the shelves and examining all the fresh produce before carefully making his selection.

“You’re a little anal about that,” Gibbs remarked.

Tony shrugged. “My dad had this Italian cook for a few years when I was little and she took me under her wing,” he said. “She taught me how to choose produce, how to work a budget, and how to be comfortable in the kitchen. Turned out to be one of the biggest favors anyone ever did for me. After my dad disowned me, I still ate OK because I knew how to stretch what I had, even when money was tight in college.”

Gibbs nodded. At the checkout, Gibbs insisted on paying for the groceries since Tony was doing the hard work of cooking for the both of them and Tony was forced to give in when Gibbs gave him that ‘Don’t question me’ look. But as they headed back out to the car, Creighton approached them.

“Tony, can we talk?”

“Dude, you need to leave,” Tony said curtly, helping Gibbs load the Challenger’s trunk with their groceries. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Tony…”

“I’m not interested.”

“Tony!” he put a hand on Tony’s arm.

“Agent Creighton,” Tony pulled away, drawing himself to his full height and glaring at the larger man. “I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”

“It’s not like you have a boyfriend,” Creighton snarled.

“Hey!” Gibbs intervened. “I’m right here, Creighton.”

“What, _you’re_ his boyfriend? You’re his fucking boss,” Creighton snarled.

Gibbs took Tony’s hand and deliberately laced their fingers, turning to give the younger man a loving smile. “We have to keep up appearances at work,” he said suggestively. “Why else would Tony be living with me now? I suggest you move on.” He ushered Tony to the passenger side, helped him in and leaned down, kissing his cheek. Tony just sat and stared at him, deer in headlights, dumbfounded, unable to say a word.

By the time Tony started to stammer, they were already almost home.

“What just happened?” he finally asked.

“Just trying to make him move on,” Gibbs shrugged.

Tony’s hand fluttered up to his cheek where Gibbs had kissed him. “You… you…”

“Had to make it look good, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said, grinning at him. “Although if all it takes to shut you up is kissing you, maybe I should’ve done that years ago.”

That snapped Tony out of it and he glared at the older man. “I can’t believe you just did that!” he protested.

“McGee was ready to be your pretend boyfriend. I can do it, too.”

Tony began muttering under his breath in Spanish and Italian. Gibbs grinned at the younger man. But all he could think about for the rest of the drive was what Tony’s warm cheek felt like under his lips, and that delicious DiNozzo scent invading his nostrils when he was that close to the man.

That night, Fornell ate dinner with them and Gibbs laid out the situation, slipping him a folder with what McGee had found during his research. Tony sat, refusing to meet anybody’s eyes while Gibbs filled Fornell in. Luckily for them, Tony had made lasagna from scratch that night, and the Italian in Fornell couldn’t believe the food he was eating. Even though he teased Tony on his taste for men and Gibbs stepping up to being Tony’s fake boyfriend, he was surprisingly gentle and sensitive in his handling of the discovery of Tony’s interest in men. He was more than happy to help out. Especially when Tony sent him home with two zip loc bags of frozen homemade marinara sauce.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next wrinkle in their lives happened a couple of days before Christmas. They were tiredly getting out of Gibbs’ Challenger, having had a hard day but they’d closed a case. Now they were ready to go inside, call for pizza and call it a night when an old truck pulled into Gibbs’ driveway. Gibbs stared in surprise when his father slid out from the truck.

“Dad?” Gibbs couldn’t help asking.

“Leroy,” Jackson Gibbs smiled his big smile, blue eyes twinkling merrily.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d surprise you for Christmas, son,” Jackson said jovially. “Surprise!”

Tony’s head ping ponged back and forth, looking at two pairs of bright blue eyes, the same, yet so different.

“It’s OK that I came, right?” suddenly Jackson’s smile dimmed as Gibbs continued to stare mutely at him.

Tony stared at both men before he sighed and stepped forward offering the older Gibbs his hand. “Mr Gibbs,” he smiled.

“Jack,” Jackson reminded him.

“Jack. It’s good to see you. Of course Gibbs is happy you’re here. I don’t know if you remember me but I’m…”

“Tony,” Jackson’s smile widened as he took Tony’s hand, shaking it heartily, and pulling the young man in for a tight hug. “Of course. My son’s man.”

Tony gasped in shock, and awkwardly patted the old man’s back, scared eyes looking back at Gibbs. Gibbs was caught between wanting to yell at his father for the surprise, and to laugh at Tony’s panicked expression at the warm welcome. Not something the younger man was used to, he knew.

And to make matters worse, Creighton chose that time to interrupt the little family reunion.

“Looks like you’re having a family Christmas, Agent Gibbs,” the unwelcome voice came, and Gibbs was amazed to see Tony pulling away from the warm bear hug and immediately pushing his father behind his back, shielding him from Creighton. Truth be told, he really liked it that Tony was immediately protective of his father.

“You’re trespassing on my property, Creighton,” Gibbs drawled, relaxing his stance, which anyone who knew him would know that that meant he was readying himself for action.

“I see the resemblance. Must be your father,” Creighton nodded towards Jackson who was trying to look at the newcomer around Tony’s body. “Here to spend Christmas with you? Does he know you’re _involved_ with Tony?” he sneered.

Obviously Creighton didn’t believe that Gibbs was Tony’s boyfriend. Gibbs rolled his eyes and was about to reply when Jackson smacked Tony’s arm and laughed. “Really?” he asked, patting the young man’s back. “I knew it! Good for you, Leroy! Tony’s a good man.”

Tony flushed scarlet at the compliment and started stammering.

“Get off my property,” Gibbs told the odious man. “Or I will call the cops.”

“Tony, come on. Stop this charade. You know you’d be way happier with me,” Creighton turned to Tony.

Tony saw that look on Gibbs face and jumped to pull the older man back before Gibbs could deck Creighton. “Call 9-1-1, Jack,” Tony said over his shoulder to the elder Gibbs. “C’mon Gibbs. He isn’t worth this.”

Creighton watched as the elder Gibbs flipped his cell phone and started dialing and he stalked away. Jackson hung up the phone and watched as Tony grabbed Jackson’s bag from the back of the truck and coaxed Gibbs into the house.

“You do not leave the house without me,” Gibbs growled at him as Tony ushered them all into Gibbs’ house.

“I won’t,” Tony said soothingly. “I told you that a few days ago.”

“Not for _any_ reason!”

“I heard you the first time,” Tony said. Then he gave Jackson, who was watching them intently, a raised eyebrow look. They should tell the older Jackson the truth, his green eyes told Gibbs.

Gibbs tapped his ear and flicked his eyes around the house.

Tony nodded. Gibbs needed to make sure the house was bug free first.

Gibbs grabbed the equipment by the door and started sweeping while Tony pulled Jackson into the kitchen and poured him iced tea and found him some homemade oatmeal raisin cookies that he’d made one night when he couldn’t sleep. They made small talk while Gibbs swept the house, and instead of ordering in, Tony automatically started pulling out ingredients to throw together a quick dinner, knowing that cooking would help calm him.

Gibbs returned while Tony was explaining the recipe for the rub that he’d put on salmon fillets. “Excuse us a moment, Dad,” he told Jackson and dragged Tony to the guest bathroom, turning the sink on.

“I guess we’re being surveilled?” Tony whispered.

Gibbs nodded.

“Did you remove the bug?”

Gibbs shook his head. “It’s only downstairs. Might be worth it to leave it in and let Fornell come get it.”

“We have to tell your dad that we’re not together,” Tony hissed.

“Can’t do it right now.”

“We can’t just pretend we’re together while we’re in the same house as he is for the next few days! Maybe I should just go home.”

“Not an option, DiNozzo.”

“McGee’s uncomfortable recliner?” Tony shrugged. “Although that should be illegal. Recliners should always be comfortable.”

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs’ tone was warning.

“We can’t just lie to your dad.”

“We’ll tell him the truth after this is all over. I don’t want him alone at home either. I don’t trust Creighton.”

Tony sighed. “He’s got to come to work with us then.”

Gibbs nodded.

“Fine, but how are we going to explain that I’m sleeping in the guest room and you’re not?”

“We don’t.”

“What?”

“I moved all your things into the master bedroom,” Gibbs mumbled. “Including your toiletries in the guest bathroom.”

“We’re going to bunk together? In your room?” Tony’s mouth dropped open.

“I think my dad will notice if I sleep on the couch and think we’re fighting. He’s a meddler. He’ll want to fix things between us.”

“We could just tell him the fucking truth!”

“It’ll be safer for him if he thinks the same thing as Creighton. I don’t want him to have to lie to the man if Creighton approaches us again. This way he’ll think he’s telling the truth.”

“What if he talks about us at work?”

“We can tell him we’re keeping it quiet for now. McGee’ll back us up.” McGee knew that Creighton now thought that Gibbs was Tony’s boyfriend.

Tony sighed. “So we’re doing this. Sleeping in your bedroom. Together.”

“It’s a big bed,” Gibbs said. “It’s not like we haven’t bunked together before.”

“Those were at motels when there weren’t any rooms with two beds,” Tony argued. “We were hot on a case and barely had time to sleep.”

“Well, we managed fine then. Why do you think this will be any different?”

Tony stared at Gibbs, finally realizing that he wasn’t going to win this one. “This is taking things too far, Gibbs,” Tony said quietly.

“I’ve already put Jack’s bag in the guest room.”

Tony sighed. He nodded tiredly.

“Boys, you can make out in bed later,” Jackson’s voice came piping through the door. “I’m a deep sleeper. And I brought earplugs!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Are you sure he’s your father? He’s more chipper than Santa.”

“Are you implying that I’m not?” Gibbs grinned.

Tony gave him a disbelieving look. “I’m going to go make dinner. You. Talk to your father like a human being and make him feel welcome.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes. “You’re sounding more and more like a wife, DiNozzo.”

“That’s _husband_ , thank you very much,” Tony growled, opening the door and turning to glare at Gibbs before he smoothed his expression and smiled at Jackson.

Gibbs was surprisingly pleasant to his father for the rest of the evening, and both Gibbses complimented Tony extravagantly for the broiled salmon and sautéed veggie and orzo pasta that he’d put together, along with a small side salad. Jackson watched as Gibbs ate the salad without complaint.

“What?” the younger Gibbs asked, catching Jackson’s look as he ate more salad. “He makes the dressing from scratch,” Gibbs muttered as he turned back to his meal. “The croutons too.”

Jackson smiled wide and took Tony’s hand, patting it fondly. “You’re really good for him, son,” he smiled.

Tony gave Gibbs a heartbreakingly scared look.

“He is, Dad,” Gibbs agreed.

Tony gawked at his boss.

“No need to be shy, son,” Jackson said, continuing to pat Tony’s hand. “I knew you were special to him when we met in Stillwater that time you boys were there for that case.”

“You did?” Tony squeaked.

“We weren’t together then,” Gibbs said softly.

“This a new development?” Jackson asked.

“Not that new,” Gibbs hedged.

“I could see your connection even back then.”

Gibbs smiled. “We’ve had a long history together.”

“And now you’ve decided to take it to ‘the next level’,” Jackson even made air quotes.

“Don’t call it that, Dad,” Gibbs said mildly.

“Then what should I call it? You finally decided to act on your feelings? Tony, tell me that my son wooed you and didn’t just order you into his bed.”

“I wouldn’t order anyone into my bed,” Gibbs objected.

“You’ve never been the sweet talker,” Jackson shook his head. “I’m just really hoping that he opened his mouth and said meaningful things to you, Tony. Because lord knows, you deserve it. You’ve put up with his crap for how many years now?”

“Dad, we’re not going to talk about this now.”

“You didn’t, did you?” Jackson sighed.

“Didn’t what?”

“You didn’t woo him. Didn’t have a courtship.”

“ _Courtship?_ ” Gibbs glared at his father. “Dad!”

“I suppose it’s okay if you ordered your young man into your bed. Especially if the two of you like that sort of thing,” Jackson slapped Tony’s hand and chuckled warmly.

“Dad, I’ll thank you not to speculate on what happens in my bedroom.”

“I don’t have to speculate. Don’t you think I know what sex is?”

“Dad!”

“You can’t even say ‘sex’, can you, Leroy?”

“ _Dad!_ ”

“For fuck’s sake,” Tony muttered, breaking his silence and standing up. “Who wants seconds?”

Both Gibbses volunteered for seconds and Tony managed to silence them both by stuffing them full of food. Over bourbon, Gibbs told his father that Creighton was stalking Tony and that he didn’t want either of them hanging around unaccompanied. Which meant Jackson would have to come to work with them the next day. Gibbs would arrange to take Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off. But Jackson was not to discuss their relationship with anyone because they were still keeping their relationship quiet at work.

Jackson nodded understandingly, promising to stay with Gibbs and Tony or stay safe at the Navy Yard.

That night, Gibbs went up to bed with Tony hours after Jackson had gone up. Jackson had hugged Tony, welcoming him to the family with open arms and gently teasing him about having earplugs and that they wouldn’t need to keep it down. Tony had spent the rest of the evening obsessively making pasta and setting them out to dry while Gibbs worked on his boat.

Gibbs had to forcibly drag the younger man upstairs. He got ready for bed first and waited in bed for Tony to emerge from the bathroom. Gibbs was sitting up against the pillows, dressed in a tight white t-shirt and boxers. When Tony hesitantly stepped back into the bedroom, he was similarly dressed. Gibbs tried not to let his eyes linger on Tony’s broad shoulders, and the lean muscles stretching the white t-shirt taut. He knew that Tony preferred to sleep in the nude, but he wasn’t going to object to the younger man wearing clothes that night. It would help him keep his hands to himself, for one thing. When they’d had to share a motel room together while on a case, Tony had had no trouble just shucking his clothes off and sliding into the bed, completely unselfconscious about his nudity. Strangely enough, Tony actually being dressed for bed made him look vulnerable and uncertain.

Without looking at Gibbs, Tony padded around the bed to the unoccupied side and carefully slid into the bed.

“I usually work on Christmas,” Tony said quietly.

“I know.”

“I wasn’t planning on taking Christmas off.”

“This year you’ll have family to spend it with, Tony.”

“Fake family,” Tony said sadly.

“You know he really likes you.”

Tony shrugged. He laid down stiffly and almost jumped when Gibbs reached over and pulled the covers more securely over him.

“Relax,” Gibbs said, patting Tony’s cheek. He slid down under the covers, turned the lamp off and sighed. “Go to sleep.”

Tony grunted an answer. Gibbs was on the brink of falling asleep, Tony’s scent actually helping him relax when the younger man spoke again.

“We’ll have to go grocery shopping,” Tony said. “So I can cook something special for Christmas.”

“Okay,” Gibbs agreed.

“And you’ll have to let me sneak out and get presents for your father. I’m guessing you don’t have anything for him either?”

Gibbs sighed. “No, I don’t.”

“I’ll get something for him from you, too.”

“Take McGee with you. No going anywhere alone.” As much as Gibbs wanted to be with Tony to ensure his safety, he just couldn’t see himself going Christmas shopping this close to Christmas. Not with anyone. Not even Shannon would’ve gotten him out to the mall this close to Christmas.

“Fine.”

“What are you thinking of making for Christmas dinner?” Gibbs asked.

“Why? You have a preference?”

“Could you make something with red meat?”

“Prime rib roast?” Tony suggested.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Should we invite the team over?”

“You _do_ know we’re not actually together, right?” Tony asked. “We’re not actually hosting our first Christmas together.”

Gibbs grinned. “Hey, I’m good with just us. More leftovers for me to eat.”

Tony couldn’t help but snort with laughter.

“Maybe McGee,” Tony conceded.

Gibbs grunted his agreement.

“You think Fornell has someplace to go for Christmas?” Tony wondered.

“We can ask if he wants to come.”

Gibbs watched as Tony closed his eyes and tried to relax. “Can’t have McGee over and not invite Abby too,” Gibbs said carefully.

“Oh fuck,” Tony growled. “She’d kill us.”

Gibbs grunted his agreement again.

“Fine. Abby, too then.”

“She might be too busy with her nuns.”

“Yeah, but then we’ll have invited her and it would be her choice whether to come or not.”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, now we’ll just have to invite the whole team,” Tony said, covering his eyes. “Or people will be hurt when they find out they were left out.”

Gibbs shrugged. “I can take it.”

“I don’t think I can,” Tony admitted. “It sucks to be left out.”

Gibbs sighed and reached a hand over, slipping it into Tony’s hand. “You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Tony.”

Tony made a dismissive noise. “Eh, it’ll be fine. I’ll deal.”

“You invite whoever you want to, Tony.”

“Okay. The team then. Ducky and Palmer too?”

“Sure.”

“Will you ask them? It’ll be weird if I do it.”

Gibbs turned to look at Tony. “This is important to you, huh?”

Tony shrugged. “Your father’s here.”

Gibbs grinned. “Sure I’ll ask everyone.”

“Great.”

“We’ll make everyone watch _It’s a Wonderful Life_.”

Tony squeezed Gibbs’ hand. “Thanks.”

“Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

“On it.”

But Tony didn’t let go of Gibbs’ hand, and Gibbs didn’t pull it out from Tony’s loose grasp and that was how they fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

In the morning, Gibbs was pleasantly warm and extra comfortable. He blinked sleepily, ran his hands down Tony’s back, and turned to drop a kiss in Tony’s hair. He loved it when Tony slept on him, pinning him down. It was always the best dream. Gibbs smiled, sighed, and ran his hands all over Tony, so warm and perfect, all hard bodied and lean muscled, Tony’s morning wood hot and hard at the top of his thigh. Best. Dream. Ever.

Wait. What?

Gibbs realized that it wasn’t a dream. Tony was actually sleeping on him, face tucked into the crook of his neck, torso on his chest, one arm around his neck, one leg thrown over both of his, and Gibbs could feel Tony’s other leg, flush against his, Tony’s cock half hard against his hip.

Fuck. Of course Tony was a fucking cuddler, Gibbs sighed and carefully stretched his back. Tony made a quiet noise of protest, pulled himself even further onto Gibbs’ body before he relaxed bonelessly, breathing shallow and even, warm against Gibbs’ neck.

And here we go, Gibbs cringed, trying to will his erection down.

Gibbs laid there while Tony slept, breathing in Tony’s scent and occasionally running his hands up and down Tony’s back when the younger man seemed restless. If his hand accidentally went down to Tony’s ass and palmed it, well, then, nobody could really blame him, could they? Tony smelled so good and his firm butt cheek fit just perfectly in Gibbs’ palm. Gibbs’ dick was aching, it was so hard. Not even the thought that Jackson was in the house, probably already awake – the old coot had always been an early riser – could calm his libido. Maybe if Tony wasn’t breathing that hot breath into his neck, his nipples wouldn’t be hardening and his cock leaking.

He squirmed, trying not to focus on his aching dick. Tony moaned in his sleep and moved his arm away from around his neck and down his chest, scraping on his erect nipple and ending up an inch away from where his cock was trying desperately to escape from his boxers.

“Fuck,” he whispered softly, trying to move Tony’s hand without waking him. He wasn’t sure who would be more disturbed if Tony woke up at this point – Tony for the fact that he was octopusing himself around Gibbs, or Gibbs for the fact that he might actually just come in his boxers if Tony accidentally touched his dick right now.

Tony mumbled something in his sleep, kissed Gibbs’ neck before he turned over, facing away from Gibbs. Sighing in relief, Gibbs carefully extracted his arm from under the sleeping man and started moving off the bed.

Tony murmured something else and Gibbs smiled, leaned back, sliding his arm around the man’s chest and dropping soft kisses on his neck. Tony moaned and smiled in his sleep, and Gibbs gave Tony’s hair one final kiss before he escaped. He showered, jerking himself off, moaning Tony’s name softly as he came, and got himself ready for work. It wasn’t the first time he’d jerked off to images of Tony, but it was definitely the first time he’d done it with Tony sleeping peacefully in his bed. His dick started twitching again at that thought and he growled a warning to it before he went downstairs.

Jackson was sitting at the coffee table, cup of coffee in his hand, reading glasses on, newspaper open. Gibbs poured himself a cup, found his own reading glasses (Tony had been putting them around the house where he’d always be able to find a pair) and settled down, taking the newspaper section that Jackson shoved over to him.

“Tony still sleeping?” Jackson asked quietly after Gibbs got up to refill both their mugs.

Gibbs grunted and nodded.

“He seems freaked out by this stalker,” Jackson observed, flipping the newspaper page over and scanning it.

Gibbs shrugged.

“Should we be worried?”

Finally Gibbs rubbed his face. “Probably,” he admitted.

“You’re worried.”

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t want him to get too upset about it.”

“Yeah.”

“Your young man can take care of himself.”

Gibbs nodded. “I know.”

“I know losing your girls the way you did…”

“I know he’s not Shannon,” Gibbs said softly. “He’s the finest young agent I’ve ever worked with. I know he can take care of himself.”

“But?”

Gibbs sighed. “He shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

“He’s not alone. He’s got you,” Jackson said simply, giving Gibbs a short but intense look.

The corner of Gibbs’ mouth raised a little. “Yeah. He does.”

They sat and ate in silence and Gibbs heard the shower go on upstairs. Tony was up. Tony was naked, soaping himself, wet and slippery and naked in his shower. He tried to steer his thoughts away from that. A naked Tony in his shower. Shit, maybe Tony was jerking off in his shower not a half hour after he’d done the same thing. His little brain really liked that idea. A lot.

Jackson gave him a knowing look. “Thinking of joining him in the shower, huh?”

“Dad!” Gibbs rolled his eyes.

“You always had that same look when Shannon was around. Distracted.”

Gibbs shrugged.

“How do you hide it at work?”

“Practice,” Gibbs answered honestly. “Lots of it.”

Jackson shook his head.

“Dad, Tony wants to make Christmas dinner and invite the team over. You okay with that?”

Jackson nodded. “Sure thing, Leroy. It’s your house. I’m just glad to see you’re not just sitting alone during the holidays.”

Gibbs nodded awkwardly. They sat, silently drinking coffee and reading the paper until Tony walked in. He poured himself the final cup of coffee, started another pot, and doctored his mug. He pulled a bowl out of Gibbs’ cabinet.

“Cereal?” he asked both Gibbses. Gibbs nodded.

“You got oatmeal, maybe?” Jackson asked.

“Instant okay?” Tony pulled a couple boxes out.

Jackson nodded and pointed to the kind he wanted. Tony put a kettle on. Jackson watched as Tony poured two bowls of healthy looking whole-grain cereal with granola clusters and then sliced bananas and strawberries over the top. He brought both bowls to the table, put one in front of Gibbs along with a carton of milk, the honey jar and maple syrup. Jackson knew that his son preferred stodgy cereals with a drizzle of honey or maple syrup, but the cereal Tony was serving actually looked edible and healthy. And Jackson noticed that the maple syrup was real maple syrup, too. Not the fake corn syrupy kind. And the honey was a local organic honey. Tony was clearly in charge of groceries, Jackson smiled to himself.

“Would you like fruit with your oatmeal?” Tony asked him politely.

“Please,” Jackson smiled.

Tony mixed up the bowl of instant oatmeal and quickly sliced bananas and strawberries on top of it before handing the bowl to Jackson. He refilled the coffees before he sat, poured milk on his cereal and started eating, crunching noisily. Jackson watched as Gibbs separated the sports section of his paper and wordlessly pushed it to the younger man. They ate and read in comfortable silence, the only sounds the slurping of coffee, the crunch of cereal and the rustling of newspapers.

Gibbs stood, refilled everyone’s coffee before he whisked the empty bowls and spoons away, one hand brushing over Tony’s shoulder as he took Tony’s bowl. Jackson watched in amusement as Gibbs did the dishes while Tony finished reading the paper. He didn’t know how long they’d been shacking up, but they certainly were attuned to each other, like an old married couple. He wanted to clap his hands and laugh, seeing how content his son seemed to be in this man’s presence, but he knew that it was better he hold his tongue. Their reunion after fifteen long years was still much too new and too fragile for him to make too many thoughtless comments. Especially since Tony was so special to his son.

It was good to see something other than that permanent frown that Leroy used to have on his face ever since his mother died. That frown had gone away when Leroy met Shannon, and it certainly disappeared after Kelly was born. When his girls were alive, Leroy had looked more like he had as a child – sweet-faced and happy. At the girls’ funerals, Leroy had reverted, back to the unhappy, dissatisfied, angry person that he’d been before he met Shannon. But when they finally saw each other again in Stillwater earlier in the year, Jackson had noticed how Leroy seemed to relax more after Tony’s arrival. He’d been more stressed and prickly when it had only been that beautiful Ziva David and geeky Tim McGee accompanying him. And now, seeing the two of them in Leroy’s house, Jackson could see that sweetness that Leroy used to have about him again.

Jackson was going to do his best not to put his foot into anything right now to ensure Leroy’s happiness.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was 4 AM on Christmas morning when Jackson got up to pee and heard sounds downstairs. Hoping it wasn’t the stalker, the elder Gibbs grabbed his cane securely and padded downstairs as quietly as he could. The sounds were coming from the kitchen.

Before he could poke his head into the kitchen, he was grabbed from behind, a hand over his mouth to silence him.

“It’s me, Dad,” Gibbs’ voice whispered in his ear. “Shhh.”

His heart hammering in his ears, Jackson nodded his understanding, and carefully Leroy released him.

“What’s going on?” he whispered to his son.

Gibbs cocked his head to the kitchen.

Jackson carefully peeked in and saw that Tony was already cooking. He had earbuds in his ears and he was quietly singing along – Silent Night, if Jackson wasn’t mistaken, and wasn’t the boy’s voice the sweetest thing he’d ever heard?

“Why is he cooking in the middle of the night?” Jackson asked his son in a quiet whisper, realizing that Tony hadn’t just gotten up early to cook. He’d been at it a while.

“Claims it relaxes him.”

“Sleep is relaxing, too.”

“He has trouble sleeping sometimes.”

“And you just stand here in the dark and watch him?”

Gibbs shrugged.

“That’s just creepy, son,” Jackson told him bluntly.

“I’m admiring the view,” Gibbs finally admitted.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “I’m going back to bed. You should go in there and kiss that boy and get him back to bed. There are other ways to de-stress, Leroy. I know you don’t want to hear me say it but you need to go sex that boy up. That’ll de-stress him good and then you won’t have to lurk in the dark, secretly admiring him.”

Gibbs half grinned, and Jackson thought the man was blushing. Shaking his head, he clasped Leroy’s shoulder warmly.

“Don’t hold yourself aloof from that young man,” he said softly.

Gibbs grunted.

“Does he even know how you feel about him?”

Gibbs shrugged.

“You should tell him,” Jackson gave him a meaningful look. “And now I’m goin’ back to bed. He’s gonna be exhausted when people come around tomorrow. You make sure he gets some sleep.”

Gibbs grunted.

“You get some sleep too, Leroy.”

Gibbs nodded.

Jackson gave him a look, trying to interpret what his son was saying before he gave up. He patted Leroy’s shoulder again before he went back to the stairs.

When Jackson came back down a couple of hours later, having had all the sleep he could get for the night, Tony was still working in it, preparing the massive prime rib he was roasting for dinner. There was no sign of Leroy, but Tony had freshly brewed coffee ready.

“Did you get any sleep, son?” Jackson asked him.

Tony grinned. “I napped some.”

Jackson shook his head. “Why don’t you sit down and relax a minute. Come keep an old man company.”

Tony gave the elderly Gibbs a grin. “They all buy that shtick, don’t they?”

Jackson’s eyes twinkled as he smiled unrepentantly.

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Tony poured himself a cup of coffee, doctored it and sat with Jackson. By the time Gibbs came downstairs, the two were talking about Jackson’s experiences climbing Mount Everest and Tony’s career-ending knee injury. Turned out Jackson remembered watching the game on TV and seeing Tony carted off the field.

Tony waited until Gibbs got his first cup before he sprang up. “Pancakes?” he offered.

“Cereal,” Gibbs told the man. “Then you’re going to go take a nap, DiNozzo.”

“What about presents?” Tony asked eagerly. They’d agreed to do presents early, before the team got there.

“We can do presents first,” Jackson laughed. “C’mon.”

They trooped to the living room where Gibbs had put up a small plastic Christmas tree and several packages wrapped in festive, brightly colored paper were under it.

“Hand out the gifts, Tony,” Gibbs nodded to the younger man. Jackson had settled on the armchair and watched as Tony handed out all the gifts, two each, before he threw himself down on the couch next to Leroy.

Tony had gotten Gibbs a special antique lathe that made Gibbs smile wide, and for Jackson a butter soft, cashmere sweater that Jackson immediately put on and petted compulsively. Jackson gave Tony an antique Montblanc pen, which Tony gasped at and tried to return.

“You can’t give this to me,” he shook his head. “It’s too much.”

“It was my father’s,” the elder Gibbs said. “And Leroy here never wanted it. It should go to someone who will appreciate it, and it’ll stay in the family anyway.”

“You can’t…” Tony’s eyes were pleading Gibbs to stop his father.

Gibbs smiled at him. “Grandad would’ve liked you,” he said. “And Dad’s right, I wouldn’t appreciate that. It’s right it goes to you.”

When Gibbs opened Jackson’s gift for him, he started laughing. “I can’t _believe_ you still have this!” he laughed, pulling out a wooden carved dog. At least Tony thought it was a dog. Might be a horse. Or a cow. Or a dragon?

“What is it?” he asked, putting his head right next to Gibbs’ to scrutinize the carving.

“First thing Dad taught me to carve,” Gibbs chuckled. “It’s supposed to be our dog.”

“I guess it kind of looks like a dog,” Tony remarked.

“Hush. I was six when I made this,” Gibbs laughed.

“There’s more in there, Leroy,” Jackson nodded at the box.

Gibbs pulled a smaller dog, just as badly carved, out and went silent. “Oh, Dad,” he breathed, feeling his eyes heat up. Tony put a concerned hand on Gibbs’ arm. Gibbs’ blue eyes were sad when he turned to look at Tony. “Kelly’s first carving,” he said softly. “Dad taught her.” He turned back to the dog and tried not to squeeze it too tightly. “Thank you, Dad,” he whispered, smiling at his father.

Jackson nodded, eyes watering. He sniffed quietly and there was a moment of silence before they had the final gifts to open.

For Jackson with the label saying it was from Gibbs, Tony had bought a new fishing rod and other fishing gear. Jackson oohed and aahed at the new features while Gibbs shook his head.

“I already have a good fishing rod, Leroy,” Jackson smiled as he assembled the rod quickly and whipped it around.

“It’s so Gibbs can go fishing with you next time he visits,” Tony piped up.

Gibbs gave Tony a glare at the comment but couldn’t help but smile at his father. “Yeah, Dad,” he agreed. And the old man beamed with happiness, even though there were tears in his blue eyes.

The last gift was handed to Tony who ripped it open to find a lovely, ornately carved wooden box. Obviously something Gibbs had made.

“Aw, thanks Gibbs,” Tony looked up, a wondrous smile on his face, before he looked back down taking in the beautiful box, running his fingers all over it, feeling it with his fingers as well as appreciating it with his eyes.

“Look inside,” Gibbs said gruffly.

Tony flipped the lid open and saw a set of three throwing knives, razor sharp, nestled in the soft cushioned inside. “Fuck, yeah!” he said, picking one up and testing its balance.

“Did you just give your young man knives for Christmas?” Jackson asked, surprised.

“Throwing knives!” Tony crowed happily.

“He’s good with them,” Gibbs muttered.

“These are awesome!” Tony flipped the knife casually, the blade catching the light and gleaming as it flipped end over end. Tony effortlessly caught it by the hilt. “Amazing balance, Gibbs. Thank you.”

“You can go down to the basement and throw them at my wall,” Gibbs said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah!” Tony exclaimed.

“After you go take a nap.”

“Awwww…”

“Go on, Tony,” Jackson backed Gibbs up. “You need some sleep.”

Tony sighed. “Everything’s prepped,” he finally conceded.

“I’ll take the roast out in an hour,” Jackson told him. “You get some sleep, son.”

Tony nodded. They ate breakfast together before Gibbs shooed Tony back to bed, promising to wake him an hour before the team was scheduled to arrive so he could assemble the side dishes. When Gibbs looked in his refrigerator, he shook his head to see all the prepared and chopped vegetables and covered casserole dishes.

“You’d think we were feeding an army,” he griped.

Jackson laughed.

By the time Abby and McGee turned up, Tony had napped, gotten up, and was showered and dressed, wearing the sweater Jackson had given him when they were in Stillwater. All the food had been cooked and was being kept warm. Abby brought with her several pies that the nuns had made, and McGee brought cases of beer.

When the first teammates appeared, Jackson watched as Tony let them take over setting the table and putting the food out. Fornell glanced questioningly at Tony before he sat down next to him on the couch.

“You make the whole dinner, DiNutzo?” he asked quietly.

Tony shrugged.

“Make any lasagna?”

Tony laughed and nodded. “In the oven. They’ll bring it out closer to when we’re eating. It’s vegetarian though – for Abby.”

“Creighton is still watching the house,” Fornell said in an undertone. He’d taken photos of the bug but they’d decided to leave it in but Abby, Ziva and McGee squabbling about seating arrangements would cover their whispered conversation. “Even today.”

“Figures,” Tony said, expression darkening.

“Don’t let him get you down.”

“I’m under house arrest, in case you haven’t noticed,” Tony hissed. “All I need is an ankle monitor and the whole house arrest vibe would be complete.”

“We’ll get him, DiNutzo.”

Tony nodded, sighing.

Gibbs had put a long table in the living room for everyone to sit at. Tony obediently sat where Abby put him, in the middle of the table, but Jackson asked to switch with him, claiming he wanted to sit right in the middle of the action and be surrounded by the lovely Abby and Ziva. Gibbs gave him a quiet nod of thanks for maneuvering it so Tony would sit by Gibbs. Fornell sat at the other end of the table. Ducky, Palmer and McGee by his end of the table.

“I see Gibbs has not killed you yet even though you’ve been here a few days, Tony,” Ziva teased before they started eating.

Tony grinned and shrugged. “There’s always tonight, Zee-vah!” he said cheerfully.

Abby took a bite of the lasagna and moaned, and McGee made similar noises as he ate the prime rib.

“Jackson,” Abby gushed. “Please tell me what you put in this lasagna! It’s amazing. What’s your secret?”

Jackson smiled happily. “I didn’t make the lasagna. I didn’t make anything,” he declared.

“Bossman? Didn’t know you could cook like this!” Abby turned to Gibbs.

“Not me either,” Gibbs denied.

“Did you order food in?” Ziva asked Gibbs.

“DiNozzo made the food,” Gibbs said.

“Tony?” several voices asked in disbelief, turning to Tony.

Tony shrugged.

“Are you sure you didn’t get this delivered from your favorite restaurant, Tony?” Ziva asked mockingly.

“That young man was up half the night cooking up this feast,” Jackson was stern.

“This is a most delicious meal, Anthony,” Ducky praised him, smiling proudly.

“The mashed potatoes are so fluffy! And you got the garlic and herbs balanced so well in it!” McGee exclaimed.

Tony shrugged again, cheeks flushing a little.

“The lasagna is better than my nonna’s,” Fornell said, “god rest her soul.”

Tony grinned. “You’re just trying to bum more marinara off of me, Fornell.”

Fornell pointed his fork at Tony and grinned back, “Yup. Told Emily I made it myself.”

“I bet she didn’t buy that,” Gibbs teased Fornell.

“Nah. She’s a smart girl. She wants to come eat at your house next time Tony’s cooking, she said.”

“She with Diane?”

“I’ll see her later.”

Both Gibbs and Fornell shuddered, thinking of their common ex-wife, and Tony smirked into his food. The rest of the meal went well. Afterwards, they cleared the table and Gibbs let Tony and McGee fiddle with the electronics they’d brought and before long they were watching _It’s a Wonderful Life_ projected onto Gibbs’ wall. Tony served his special eggnog and caramel corn with the movie.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was about time for everyone to leave, Gibbs thought. It had been a social day. Ducky and Palmer had both left, Ducky to tend to his mother, and Palmer to do whatever it was that Palmer did. Not that Gibbs really knew what the eccentric man did when he wasn’t assisting Ducky. Then he looked around and realized that he didn’t see DiNozzo anywhere.

“McGee,” he said sharply, his gut roiling. “Where’s DiNozzo?”

“He was in the kitchen with Ziva and Abby earlier,” McGee said. He was busily unhooking the electronics. “He was supposed to come back and help me with this.”

Gibbs glanced into the kitchen and saw Ziva and Abby sharing a slice of pie. No DiNozzo.

“Check the basement,” he ordered McGee curtly as he rushed upstairs and checked their bedroom and bathroom. He whipped his phone out and called Tony’s number, standing out in the upstairs hallway and groaned when he heard it ringing downstairs somewhere.

“Tony! Your phone’s ringing!” he heard Abby yell in a sing-song voice. “Rule #3! You’re going to get in trouble!”

Fuck. Tony’s phone was in the house but he wasn’t. He ran downstairs and hauled open the front door. Nothing. McGee had come up from the basement and shook his head silently.

“Fuck!” Gibbs swore, his heart pounding in fear.

“What is wrong?” Ziva looked concerned.

“Where’s DiNozzo?” he asked Ziva and Abby.

They shrugged.

“Last I remember he was taking the trash out,” Abby said.

“He took the trash out?” Gibbs asked angrily. “Outside? He went outside?”

“What’s the big deal, Bossman?” Abby asked, completely innocently.

“By himself?” Gibbs asked tightly.

“Yes, Gibbs,” Ziva confirmed.

“I _told_ him not to leave the house alone!” Gibbs spat out. “Goddammit, Tony!”

“I was supposed to do it,” Abby said, suddenly looking uncertain.

“She lost when we did rock paper scissors,” Ziva added.

“But I was tired and too full, and I begged Tony to do it,” Abby’s eyes were huge.

Gibbs opened the back door and swore again, seeing the bag of trash laying abandoned on the ground by his trash can.

“Fornell, he took DiNozzo!” he ground out as he slammed the kitchen door. “Gear up,” he told his team. Fornell immediately made a phone call, calling for backup.

“What is going on?” Ziva asked.

“Creighton?” McGee asked quietly.

Gibbs nodded tightly.

“I put a GPS tracker on his car,” McGee exclaimed, pulling out his laptop and booting it up. “We can track him.”

“Let’s go,” Gibbs grabbed his jacket, his weapons, threw his boots on. “Find him, McGee.”

“What can I do?” Jackson asked his son.

“Stay here with Abby in case Tony escapes,” Gibbs nodded at the forensic scientist. “You know how he is.”

“Okay Bossman,” Abby breathed. “I’m sorry I made him take the trash out…”

“He knew he wasn’t supposed to leave the house, not for any reason,” Gibbs growled.

“Who took him?” Ziva demanded.

“Tony has a stalker,” Gibbs told his team. “He didn’t want to make a fuss about it. It’s an FBI agent. He’s been stalking DiNozzo for two weeks.”

Understanding dawned on Ziva. “He’s the ‘boiler’ problem Tony was having?” she asked.

Gibbs nodded. “Where’s Creighton?” Gibbs asked McGee.

“He’s headed away from here,” McGee said. “North on the I-95. But he was definitely here.”

“Move out,” Gibbs barked, and he, Fornell, McGee and Ziva left. McGee rode with Gibbs in the Charger, tracking Creighton on the laptop, while Ziva rode in Fornell’s G-ride. Both Fornell and Gibbs put their lights on and sped down the highway.

In the car, McGee felt Gibbs keep giving him sharp looks while he directed them, keeping a close eye on his laptop.

After the nth angry look, McGee decided to bite the bullet and just ask.

“Um, Boss? Are you OK?” he stammered.

Gibbs glared at him.

“Right, I know. We’ll get Tony back. You know that, right?”

Gibbs nodded tightly.

“He’ll be okay. You know how he is. He’ll stall until we get there.”

Gibbs nodded again.

McGee gave some more directions, and Gibbs zigzagged around cars, tires screeching, going full tilt towards Tony’s abductor. Gibbs was still giving him the stink eye though.

“It wasn’t my fault he was taken, Boss,” McGee said quietly. “I wouldn’t have let him go outside by himself.”

“I know,” Gibbs growled.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, McGee starting to shrink from Gibbs’ anger. This is when they really needed Tony, McGee thought, because Tony always knew how to talk to Gibbs, and how to get him to be less angry. How to take on the anger so Gibbs would be less of a bastard.

“How’d you know?” Gibbs finally asked.

“Well, I just figured that Tony’s Tony and we probably wouldn’t be able to leash him forever, so I thought it was wise to track Creighton,” McGee answered distractedly, tapping the keys of his laptop.

“No,” Gibbs said impatiently. “How’d you _know?_ ”

McGee stared at Gibbs’ profile for a moment. “Oh!” he finally exclaimed. “Know about Creighton?”

Gibbs nodded. That would be a start, he thought. He would prefer to know how McGee knew about Tony’s interest in men in general, but he would take this answer.

McGee sighed. “It was an accident,” he finally admitted. “Creighton sent him flowers. He signed the card. I got in before Tony and stole the card.”

Gibbs grunted. “You confronted him about it?”

“He refused to talk to me about it. Until that day when you overheard us arguing,” McGee admitted.

“So you already knew then?”

“That he’s bisexual?” McGee looked uncomfortable. But he continued speaking. “Yeah. I did.”

Gibbs turned and gave him a look.

“We were out at an alternative club,” McGee rushed to fill in the blanks. “Fiona, my girlfriend, and me. One of her best friends is gay and they were going up to Boston to get married. We went to his bachelor party at this club. In Boston. And I saw Tony there. It was a weird coincidence.”

Gibbs’ mouth turned down angrily as he imagined Tony out dancing with a man. He gave McGee a questioning look. “Kept it to yourself,” he said, his tone accusatory.

“It’s Tony’s business,” McGee muttered. “It’s hard to be gay in our line of work. It wasn’t my place to say anything about it to anyone.”

Gibbs nodded, his eyes finally approving.

“You’re not… upset that Tony’s…?” McGee asked, unable to finish his question.

Gibbs whipped his head around and glared fiercely at the junior agent, causing him to shrink back towards the door.

“Right, of course you’re not,” McGee stammered.

“Just find him, McGee,” Gibbs said curtly.

Correctly taking that to be Gibbs’ way of ending the conversation, McGee concentrated on his laptop and ensured they were on the right track following Creighton’s car.


	5. Chapter 5

Gibbs’ mind began wandering as he continued to drive, wondering if Tony had been so concerned about being outed that he’d gone all the way to Boston to go clubbing. If that had been the case, then why had he accepted a drink from Creighton here in DC? No, Tony must have just gone to Boston for fun, but he must also carry on his alternative lifestyle here in DC, just very discreetly. _Very_ discreetly. Because there had not been even a whiff of Tony’s ambiguous sexuality. Everyone knew about his womanizing ways, but that was it. And now, knowing that Tony liked both men and women made Gibbs want to throw his hands up in despair. How was he, a broken down old marine, going to compete for Tony’s attention with all the beautiful men _and_ women of DC?

He cursed himself silently. He was not going to compete for Tony’s attention with anyone because he was not going to tell Tony anything. After all, he was Tony’s boss. There was Rule 12. And no telling if Tony was even attracted to him. Tony had always been leery of commitment, and Gibbs was really not a casual sex sort of guy. So already that made them completely incompatible. So it was time for Gibbs to just focus on the task at hand.

Retrieve Tony. Put Creighton behind bars.

Gibbs smacked his hand on the steering wheel to force his brain back to the immediate problem, and put all thoughts of anything other than rescuing Tony out of his head.

They tracked Creighton to a house in a suburb of Baltimore. Gibbs and Fornell turned their flashing lights off and parked one street over before all four of them approached the house on foot, guns out, badges visible, Kevlar hastily slapped on. They spread out and peeked into the windows, keeping in touch via bluetooth on their phones. Nothing on the first floor. The upper floor of the house was in darkness. Ziva picked the back door lock and they carefully entered, treading lightly. Fornell and Ziva nodded and crept through to clear the first floor while McGee and Gibbs found the door to the basement.

The basement light was on. Gibbs could see light from under the door. McGee kept Fornell and Ziva informed of their discoveries while the two whispered “Clear” in their ears each time they swept a room on the first floor. Gibbs eased the basement door open and immediately they heard voices.

“What, you’re going to shoot me now?” Tony’s voice came floating up, DiNozzo condescension at its finest. “ _That’s_ going to work real well with trying to ‘win my affections’.”

Gibbs couldn’t help quirking a grin at McGee. They could both hear the air quotes and the eye rolling Tony was doing.

“You stabbed me with a knife!” Creighton sounded shocked.

“I did not _stab_ you with a knife,” Tony corrected him. Even though he sounded confident, Gibbs could hear the edge of pain in his voice. Tony was hurt and trying not to show weakness. His voice had a breathy edge to it that would soon lead to pants of pain. “I _threw_ my knife at you.” Tony laughed derisively.

Gibbs and McGee quietly went down the stairs, McGee quietly whispering to Fornell and Ziva that they’d found both men. The other two were going to proceed to sweep the second floor to ensure they were alone, leaving Gibbs and McGee to deal with Creighton in the basement.

Tony was facing them, Creighton’s back to the stairs. Tony’s eyes flickered briefly towards them but immediately skittered away, not wanting to alert Creighton to their presence. Gibbs could see that blood was flowing freely down Tony’s face from somewhere above his hairline. Some kind of head wound then, which meant that the blood was to be expected. Hopefully not something too serious though.

“If you think you can force me to shoot you, you’re mistaken,” Creighton spoke.

Tony snorted in disgust. “Then why do you have your gun pointed at me?” he sniffed, shaking his head and using his shoulder to swipe blood out of his eyes. His hands were handcuffed.

“You _knifed_ me!”

“Just a flesh wound,” Tony dismissed it. Gibbs was almost positive it was a movie quote. “And why the need for cuffs?” he rattled the cuffs on his wrists. Gibbs knew that Tony was trying to give him and McGee a sitrep. In short: he had a head wound, he was cuffed, Creighton had a gun on him, and Tony’s knife in his body somewhere that was not a mortal wound.

“You’ll try to escape.”

“Oh I won’t try to escape. I _will_ escape,” Tony gloated. “Or Gibbs will come for me.”

“ _Gibbs!_ ” Creighton screamed. “That man doesn’t even _appreciate_ you! He treats you like shit at work, and he lets other people treat you like shit! I would _never_ do that.”

“No, of course you wouldn’t,” Tony said facetiously. “You’ll just hit me over the head with a crowbar, give me a concussion, throw me in your trunk, kidnap me, cuff me – and not at all in a kinky way – , and then point your fucking service weapon at me and I’ll fall all over myself to be your man. What are you, a caveman? You Tarzan, me Jane? And I gotta say, I object to being Jane. If anybody should be Tarzan, it should be me. I’ve worn a dress, and I do not look good in dresses. The chest hair throws people off.”

McGee tried not to snicker at Tony’s words. But the Senior Field Agent wasn’t done yet.

“How stupid are you, Creighton? You kill me with your service weapon and you think you’ll get away with that? You don’t think the ballistics won’t immediately point straight to you?”

“I am _not_ going to kill you!” Creighton kept his gun steadily pointed at Tony while holding one arm immobile.

“What then? Shoot me, what, just a little bit? Where? The shoulder? To match the knife I threw in yours?” Tony was scornful. “You’re a dumbass if you think I’m going to suddenly want you if you forced me into this by shooting me.”

Gibbs and McGee spread out, carefully approaching, flanking him a little so that if they did have to take a shot, there would be less chance of a through and through hitting Tony.

“I bought you a drink! Why’d you accept it if you’re with Gibbs?”

“Listen, what I do with Gibbs is my business, and accepting a drink from you doesn’t mean that you and I are married. I’ve been with Gibbs for going on nine years now and I still have trouble with commitment. You think one drink with you is going to do it for me?” Tony sighed. “Besides, I didn’t even finish my drink. I’ve told you no repeatedly. Whatever I have with Gibbs shouldn’t matter when I have said no to you. Many times. Unequivocally.”

“Everyone plays hard to get,” Creighton whined.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Tony growled. “What the hell is _wrong_ with you?”

“You think Gibbs will come for you?” Creighton asked, suddenly sounding concerned.

“He always comes for me, asshole,” Tony said confidently. Then he winked. “In more ways than one.”

Gibbs tried not to choke at the innuendo, but Creighton didn’t hold back. He started sputtering.

“I know that he was sleeping on the couch before his father showed up! So how much can he possibly love you if you aren’t even sleeping together?” the man shouted, gun now wavering a little.

“So we fought,” Tony shrugged, nonchalant. “Everybody fights. Somebody has to sleep on the couch some nights. But you can bet that the make up sex is extremely good. _Extremely_.” Tony’s tone was intense and Gibbs knew that make up sex with Tony would indeed be _extremely_ good. “And Gibbs will come for me, and then you’ll be in jail. Or dead. One of the two. I’m not particular.”

Creighton lowered his gun hand as he gasped in shock. “You don’t mean that… Tony?”

That’s when Gibbs tackled him, knocking Creighton’s gun out of his grasp and driving the knife deeper into Creighton’s shoulder as they both fell to the floor. Creighton screamed in pain. McGee kicked Creighton’s gun away and waited, gun trained on Creighton, while Gibbs cuffed his hands behind his back. Gibbs pulled him into a sitting position before he started patting him down for weapons. He smiled a feral smile when he saw that Tony had thrown one of his new throwing knives, Gibbs’ gift to Tony from just this morning, and it was embedded to the hilt in Creighton’s shoulder.

“Attaboy, Tony,” Gibbs turned to smile at Tony, and saw that he was getting unsteady on his feet. “McGee!” he inclined his head sharply towards his Senior Field Agent.

McGee immediately went to Tony who was starting to sway. He saw that Tony somehow had another throwing knife in his hand, ready to back his team up, even though he was cuffed and wounded.

“Another knife, Tony?” McGee rolled his eyes as he grabbed Tony’s elbow and helped steady him.

Tony blinked and looked surprised to see the knife in his hand. “They were my Christmas present,” Tony said, his speech now slurred.

“You okay?” McGee was concerned. Fornell and Ziva came running down the basement steps.

Gibbs abandoned Creighton to Fornell and Ziva and ran to help McGee catch Tony as his eyes rolled up and he started crumpling to the floor. Carefully, he and McGee lowered Tony to the floor, checking his vitals while Ziva called 9-1-1. Luckily Tony was only unconscious for a couple of minutes. He came to with a gasp and tried to sit up.

“Shhh,” Gibbs told him, fingers in Tony’s hair. “You’re safe. Relax. EMTs will be here soon.”

“Creighton?” Tony asked.

“You don’t remember?”

Tony frowned. “Right. You got him already.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Tony sighed, closing his eyes.

“Stay awake now, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said softly.

“Okay.”

But Gibbs could see that Tony was going under again. He patted the man’s cheek gently, until his eyelids fluttered open. “Stay awake,” Gibbs ordered him.

Tony grunted his assent and his eyes closed but he was awake this time.

“There are much easier ways to get out of doing the dishes, DiNozzo,” Gibbs told him.

Tony grinned and chuckled quietly, then relaxed, keeping silent. No doubt he had one hell of a headache, Gibbs thought.

McGee came down with a bottle of water and a clean cloth for Tony’s head, and if he was surprised to see Gibbs sitting cross legged on the floor with Tony’s head pillowed in his lap, ignoring Tony’s blood seeping into his jeans, he was mostly able to hide it.

“Don’t throw the water in my face, Probie,” Tony’s voice made him jump.

“You’re awake!” McGee’s face lit up. “Want some water?”

Tony eyelids fluttered, his long eyelashes fanning his cheeks. “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “Kind of comfortable right now.”

Gibbs snickered at Tony’s sleepy voice. He held his hand out for the cloth and gently pushed it against the still-bleeding wound on Tony’s head. Tony moaned a little at the pressure.

“Concussion?” McGee asked Gibbs.

Gibbs nodded, and Tony raised a hand making a thumbs up sign.

“Fornell and Ziva have Creighton upstairs. Once the EMTs get here, Fornell will escort Creighton to the hospital,” McGee reported.

“I’ll want my knife back when they get it out of Creighton,” Tony mumbled, eyes closed. “S’mine. Perfectly balanced for throwing. And it’s new. My Christmas present.”

“Why’d you have them on you?” Gibbs asked.

“You said I could practice throwing them in your basement,” Tony said petulantly. “I strapped them on. Didn’t realize I should’ve strapped my gun on too to take the trash out.”

“You weren’t supposed to set foot outside the house alone, DiNozzo,” Gibbs rebuke was gentle.

Tony sighed. “I know,” he sounds regretful. “But Abby gave me those big sad eyes and I couldn’t resist it and Ziva looked at me funny when I tried to get her to just watch me while I did it.”

“Should’ve come to me,” Gibbs told him.

“Or me,” McGee added.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “But at least now he’s out of our hair and Fornell can throw the book at him. I’m not under house arrest anymore!” his happiness was evident despite the concussion.

Gibbs tried not to let his heart fall at that. He would have no excuse to keep Tony at his house, and in his bed any longer now that the threat had been neutralized. He would really miss it. Ever since Jackson arrived and he moved Tony into his own bed, he had enjoyed waking up every morning with Tony snuggled up with him, using him like a full body pillow. It was going to be really hard to give that up again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When the EMTs arrived, Tony was taken to the hospital despite his arguments. Gibbs went with him to ensure that he didn’t try to escape before they ran the CT and MRI scans. He was diagnosed with a moderate concussion but no skull fracture or bleeding in the brain. It was the wee hours of the morning before he was finally allowed to go home with Gibbs, and only after he whined to the pretty doctor about wanting to go home and not staying at the hospital.

Jackson picked them up in the Challenger, waving aside Tony’s apologies for keeping him up so late. They bundled the injured man into the back seat, and Gibbs handed him a couple of bags to throw up in if he needed to. He’d already vomited a couple of times since he was rescued. He made it home without throwing up.

Tony was out of it enough to let the two Gibbses fuss over him, stripping him and tucking him into Gibbs’ bed. They asked him questions, the standard concussion check questions, before they left him alone. Jackson even petted Tony’s hair and kissed the man’s forehead as he fell asleep, causing him to look up in sleepy confusion.

“Sleep,” Jackson said softly and obediently, Tony closed his heavy eyelids, falling asleep despite his confusion.

Then Jackson took his son downstairs, gave him some chamomile tea, refusing to make him coffee, and sat down with him. Gibbs wondered how in the hell he even had chamomile tea in the house but figured that Tony must have gotten some for his dad at some point in the last couple of days.

“You doing okay, son?” Jackson asked carefully.

Gibbs sighed, waiting a moment before he nodded.

“You got him back,” Jackson told him.

Gibbs nodded, this time his mouth quirking up. “He was well on his way to rescuing himself,” he said proudly.

“That young fella Timothy told me. He used one of the throwing knives you just gave him?”

Gibbs nodded, this time unable to stop the smile. “Yeah, he did.”

“Timothy said he nailed the guy in the shoulder.”

“Tony told me in the ambulance he meant to hit him in the chest but that he was seeing three of Creighton. So he’s lucky it hit him anywhere at all.”

Jackson laughed. “He’s a good man to have in a sticky situation.”

“Yeah, he is,” Gibbs agreed. “In any situation, really.”

“You make sure you tell him that some time,” Jackson advised. “That young man seems like he could use more people in his corner.”

Gibbs nodded, knowing Jackson was right. If Gibbs didn’t tell Tony he was appreciated, one day he would leave and it would leave a gaping hole in Gibbs’ life. And in his heart. But would it be enough for Gibbs to tell him that he was appreciated at work? Or could Tony ever entertain any kind of relationship with him outside of work? Other than the tentative friendship that they had?

“Well, I’m going to bed, son,” Jackson stood. “It’s been a hell of an exciting day. And I need to get some sleep. I’m getting too old for this kind of thing. You get some rest, too. Go snuggle up with that boy and make sure he knows he’s loved.”

“I don’t love him,” Gibbs looked up sharply, the denial quick on his tongue. “Who said anything about love?”

“You do love him,” Jackson scowled. He looked into Gibbs’ eyes. “Yes, you do,” he said simply. “Face up to it, or you let that young man go, Leroy. You can’t keep him if you don’t have the guts to tell him how you feel to his face. With words.”

Gibbs stared at his father, shocked.

“I know that life’s been hard on you,” Jackson said, completely serious now. “I know that you now think that love makes you vulnerable. Makes it easy for someone to hurt you. You just need to make sure now that you’re not the one hurting yourself and that boy by extension. He would do anything for you, you know that? Anyone can see it. You just need to be brave enough to open yourself up to being vulnerable again. And remember, you said it yourself. He’s the finest young agent you’ve ever worked with. He’s not going to roll over and make it easy for anyone to get to him. You saw how it went today. McGee says that’s how it tends to go with Tony. He knows how to defend himself and you had a hand in honing his skills there too, I know it. Give him a real chance. Give yourself a real chance.”

“Dad…”

“That boy has no idea you love him. Even though you’re together, and I can see that he’s crazy about you, yet he has no idea how you feel. It’s time to change that.”

“Dad,” Gibbs sighed, shaking his head.

“Leroy, you’ve been lucky enough to be given a second chance at love. Take it and don’t look back, son,” Jackson patted Gibbs’ shoulder gently, swooping in to kiss his temple before he smiled awkwardly at his son. “Good night, Leroy.”

Gibbs sat and nursed the tea for a half hour, his brain whirling with possibilities. Was Tony crazy about him? Did he even stand a chance with the beautiful young man, grumpy bastard that he was? He couldn’t get Jackson’s words out of his head. Finally he went up to bed. After he got ready for bed, he carefully climbed in and instead of waiting for Tony to sprawl all over him while sleeping, he slid over until he was flush up against the younger man.

“Tony?”

“Mmm,” Tony mumbled.

“What’s your name?”

“Lemme sleep,” Tony’s sleepy voice answered.

“Tell me your name.”

“Tony,” Tony said, irritated.

“Your full name?”

“Anthony D. DiNozzo Jr.”

“You going to tell me your middle name?”

“Nope.”

Gibbs laughed. He asked a few more questions and was satisfied that Tony wasn’t confused. Then he watched as Tony slipped back into a deep sleep before he put an arm under Tony’s head and pulled the man up against his body. Tony sighed, settled his head on Gibbs’ chest, put an arm around his waist and tangled his leg between Gibbs’.

“Good night, Tony. I love you,” Gibbs whispered softly.

Tony’s little snuffle snores into his chest made him smile. Maybe tomorrow, or sometime soon, he might take his father’s advice and tell Tony how he felt about him at a time when Tony might actually remember it. When Tony was conscious and sober. It had felt good to just say it out loud even to a sleeping Tony. He kissed the top of Tony’s head and nuzzled his face into Tony’s hair before he closed his eyes and slowly allowed himself to fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Soft knocking on the door woke Gibbs up. He was lying on his back and Tony was snuggled onto his chest, wrapped around him. Gibbs’ arms were holding Tony close.

Jackson poked his head in and caught Gibbs’ eye.

“Dad?” Gibbs was confused as his room was dark. He didn’t remember drawing his curtains the night before.

“Agent Fornell is here, Leroy,” Jackson said softly. “Needs to take Tony’s statement?”

Gibbs rubbed Tony’s back, saying Tony’s name softly while Jackson slipped into the room. Tony moved sluggishly and tightened his hold on Gibbs’ chest.

“Tony,” Gibbs repeated, continuing to rub Tony’s back.

Tony frowned and pouted in his sleep.

Jackson smiled. “Shame to wake him,” he said softly. “He looks like he’s finally sleeping well.”

Gibbs gave his father a confused look.

“I looked in on you both, and the sun seemed to be bothering him earlier so I pulled your curtains.”

Gibbs nodded, unsure how he felt about the fact that his father had been looking in on him and Tony sleeping together. Not just in the same bed but in each other’s arms. He was amazed that Jackson didn’t even bat an eyelid about it. Not that he’d expected Jackson to have any negative feelings about him having a boyfriend, but it was another thing to see them in bed together, even if they’d only been sleeping. Jackson was supposed to be from a different generation, after all. But he’d taken it much better than Gibbs himself had, really, when he’d realized that he was as attracted to men as he was to women.

“I did have to keep waking him up for the concussion checks,” Gibbs said, explaining why Tony seemed to be so reluctant to wake up.

Tony growled grumpily, burrowing his face into Gibbs’ chest.

“Should I tell Agent Fornell to come back later?” Jackson asked, as Gibbs began rubbing Tony’s shoulders.

“What’s Toby want?” Tony mumbled sleepily, eyes closed, face still buried in Gibbs’ bare chest.

“Your statement, Tony,” Gibbs said, continuing to knead Tony’s shoulders.

Tony sighed. “Let me shower first?” he asked cracking an eye open and looking sleepily up at Jackson.

“Awright, son,” Jackson smiled at him and leaned down. Gentle fingers parted Tony’s hair carefully to examine his wound before he petted Tony’s head gently. “How’s your head?”

Tony smiled back, eyes heavy with sleep. “Fine,” he answered. “I’ve got a hard head.”

Jackson looked into Tony’s sleepy eyes and nodded. “You should probably take it easy today.”

“It’s what the doctor said last night,” Gibbs agreed.

Tony sighed, yawning and stretching, exposing more of his neck and shoulders, wordlessly asking for Gibbs to rub him even more. “I’ll be down in a few,” he practically moaned when Gibbs rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ll tell him, son.” And to Tony’s surprise, Jackson leaned down again and kissed his forehead.

After Jackson left, closing the door softly behind him, Tony looked up at Gibbs, seemingly unaware that he was still plastered against his boss and that Gibbs’ fingers were still gently kneading his shoulders. “Why’s he keep doing that?” Tony asked curiously, wrinkling his forehead.

“What? Kiss you?” Gibbs touched Tony’s forehead gently with his finger to indicate where Jackson had kissed him.

Tony nodded. “Didn’t he do it last night too?”

“He’s always kissed everyone in the family. My mom, my grandparents. Even me, at least until I threatened to punch him if he kissed me in front of anyone again,” Gibbs smiled at the memory. “He always kissed Shannon and Kelly, too.”

“You don’t mind that he’s kissing me? I’m not really family. I guess we should tell him,” Tony sighed, unaware that he was rubbing his stubbled cheek on Gibbs’ chest, the peach fuzz rubbing against Gibbs’ skin making his nipples harden and goosebumps rise.

Gibbs’ heart fell. “Maybe we don’t have to tell him right away,” he said hesitantly.

“We can’t keep lying to him. No reason not to come clean now that Creighton’s in custody.”

“No rush. I can tell him after he leaves. He’s actually having a good time right now, much better than if it was just him and me arguing all day. Let him have a good memories here with us?”

Tony smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

Tony’s smile transformed his face. He went from sleepy and confused to joyful so quickly it dazed Gibbs. He smiled back and kissed Tony’s cheek. That act seemed to break the spell. Tony suddenly realized that his entire body was snuggled up to Gibbs’. Panic filled his green eyes as he tried to scramble away, and Gibbs refused to let him go, his arm around Tony holding his upper body close even as Tony pulled his legs away.

Almost whimpering with anxiety, Tony looked up at Gibbs. The older man realized that Tony had probably not even known that they’d been sleeping plastered to each other every night since Tony started sleeping in his bed. Gibbs was an early riser and had been reluctantly wriggling out of Tony’s grasp, lamenting the loss of Tony’s warm body curled around him, the young man’s morning wood digging into his hip so enticingly, causing him to be unable to stop himself from jerking off in the shower every morning, despite the fact that Jackson was in the house with them. Given Tony’s reaction now, Gibbs was glad that he’d been able to hide this from the younger man or Tony might have started staying awake or changing how he slept out of worry.

“Shhh,” Gibbs kneaded the back of Tony’s neck and ran his fingers gently through the hair on the back of Tony’s head. “I really don’t mind. And you only have to stop if this is something you’re uncomfortable with.”

Tony stared at him in confusion now. “What?”

Gibbs sighed and leaned down, nuzzling Tony’s cheek before he kissed the corner of Tony’s mouth. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to leave on my account.”

Tony’s bleary green eyes widened and all he could do was stare wordlessly at Gibbs. The marine gently patted Tony’s cheek. “Go shower and wake up. We can talk when you’re not quite so out of it. Okay?”

Mutely, Tony nodded. Gibbs smiled and deliberately kissed Tony’s cheek again and this time Tony blushed, a look Gibbs had rarely seen. He wondered if he could keep making Tony blush so attractively. Tony smiled shyly, kissed Gibbs’ cheek quickly before he slipped out of his arms and left the bed. Tony was brushing his teeth and Gibbs patted Tony’s ass as he squeezed by, making the younger man jump almost a foot in surprise. Gibbs grinned mischievously and Tony rolled his eyes, continuing to brush his teeth. Gibbs relieved his bladder, flushed and washed his hands – both men were used to sharing a bathroom from all the years of working together and sharing motel rooms. Then he checked Tony’s head, and stared into his eyes to ascertain his condition. He subjected the younger man to one last round of concussion check questions which Tony passed.

Nodding approvingly, Gibbs squeezed Tony’s hand before he left Tony alone to shower.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Tony made it downstairs, he was dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, his hair sticking up everywhere, still damp from the shower. Jackson pushed him into a chair and poured him a cup of coffee, which he immediately doctored with cream and sugar.

Tony allowed the elder Gibbs to fuss over him, giving Fornell a wry grin as Jackson checked his head wound and his eyes, and then asked him questions to ensure that he was lucid. While Tony answered Fornell’s questions and gave his statement, Jackson made pancakes and after Tony had written out and signed his statement, all four men relaxed and ate the pancakes that Jackson had made.

Fornell could hardly contain his glee at watching both Gibbses refuse to allow Tony to do anything. Finally Tony sighed and gave in with mock bad grace, but anyone could see that he was enjoying the attention. Fornell examined the other two throwing knives that Tony had, that were part of the set that Gibbs had given him for Christmas, ribbing Tony about what he must have done to earn them. Tony gave as good as he got but the banter was light-hearted.

Then Gibbs thought that Tony was starting to look tired and he knew that if he suggested Tony go back to bed that the younger man would dig his heels and refuse, staying up and exhausting himself to prove a point. Instead, he suggested they watch a movie. McGee had connected a DVD player to his TV so Fornell looked over the movies that Tony had brought with him, and he and Jackson chose _A Christmas Story_ , which made Tony brighten up. They started the movie and Gibbs pulled Tony close, arm around his shoulder, silently urging the younger man to relax with his head on Gibbs’ shoulder, ignoring Fornell’s questioning looks. Although Tony started out a little stiff and tense, as the movie started, the younger man relaxed and practically melted into Gibbs’ body, falling asleep not ten minutes into the movie.

Jackson smiled admiringly at Gibbs, realizing how he’d manipulated the young man into resting. Gibbs shrugged. “He needs to rest,” he made a face.

Jackson just smiled, patted Gibbs’ shoulder and refilled his coffee. Halfway through the movie, the rest of Gibbs’ team showed up, including Abby. They filed in and took in the sight of Tony sleeping soundly in Gibbs’ arms, face tucked into Gibbs’ neck, his body practically in Gibbs’ lap, with varying degrees of surprise. Gibbs rolled his eyes and waved their reactions away, shushing them when Tony stirred.

Jackson took the team into the kitchen for refreshments, and ended up serving them lunch. They raided Gibbs’ fridge, warming up leftovers from the previous day. Fornell joined them, serving himself a big helping of leftover lasagna.

They spoke quietly until Tony shuffled into the kitchen, hair mussed, barely even awake. He jumped when he saw the crowd at Gibbs’ kitchen table.

“We catch a case?” he asked, yawning. Without looking, he reached into one of Gibbs’ cabinets and pulled out a mug. His movements automatic and easy, he poured himself coffee and leaned against the counter, inhaling the aroma from his mug before he sipped it.

“No case,” McGee said. “Just came to check on you. And eat your food.”

Tony’s lips slowly curved up into a smile. “Aww, Probie. I can’t tell if you care about me or if you were just hungry.”

McGee grinned back. “Shut up. I’m eating.”

“I get that a lot,” Tony said thoughtfully, before he grinned at the younger agent.

When Gibbs came into the kitchen, the team watched as again, seemingly without looking for it or thinking about it, Tony reached into the same cabinet, pulled out what looked to be a well-loved, chipped mug, obviously one that Gibbs must prefer, and automatically poured him a fresh cup. Gibbs took it with a silent nod and glared at the people in his kitchen.

“Still here?” he asked grumpily.

“We were merely checking to ensure that our teammate is recovering from his ordeal yesterday,” Ziva said innocently.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. “Eat your lunch, get a look at DiNozzo, and git. Vance gave us today and tomorrow off. You don’t need to waste it in my house.”

“Well,” Jackson spoke up. “Abby and Ziva have kindly consented to escorting me to the mall and helping me shop. I’ve been wanting to get a few things.”

Gibbs shook his head as Jackson winked flirtatiously at both women, and they tittered. Tony hid a smile behind his hand as he drank his coffee.

“I’m having dinner with Fiona in a bit,” McGee said, mentioning his girlfriend.

“I’m picking Emily up in an hour,” Fornell said, looking at his watch. He stared sadly at his empty plate, which made Tony laugh.

“Your very transparent attempt at making Tony make you and Emily dinner seems to be working,” Gibbs rolled his eyes.

“Wait, Tony’s making dinner again?” McGee’s eyes widened.

“Not tonight,” Gibbs said firmly. “He’s still concussed. If he feels better, either tomorrow night or the next night.”

Tony glanced at Gibbs in surprise but he didn’t contradict the man’s words.

“I’m going to get ready to go out with these lovely ladies,” Jackson stood. Before long the house was clearing out and the team watched as Tony leaned down and allowed Jackson to kiss his cheek before he left with Ziva and Abby.

When Gibbs and Tony were left alone, they stared at each other for a moment.

“I’m still not quite sure how I feel about your dad kissing me,” Tony said thoughtfully. “I mean it’s not bad or anything. But sort of weird. Nobody’s done that to me before.”

Gibbs smirked. “I enjoyed the looks you were getting from everyone,” he admitted.

“Maybe if you hadn’t manipulated me into sleeping in your lap on the couch, we’d be spared the weird looks,” Tony groused.

“Nobody looked at _me_ strangely,” Gibbs said delightedly.

“Yeah, well, nobody wants you to kill them with just a look,” Tony grumbled. “But now, they all know that Creighton had a thing for me and I might not be as straight as they thought I was.”

“And you were practically sleeping in my lap earlier.”

Tony threw up his hands. “I’m screwed,” he sighed.

“They’re loyal. They’ll keep it to themselves,” Gibbs assured him.

Tony grunted. “Won’t be the first time I have to leave town in order to stay in law enforcement,” he said quietly.

“Not gonna happen,” Gibbs was immediately in Tony’s face and pulling him close. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Tony stiffened for a moment before he relaxed into Gibbs’ arms. “I know,” he said softly.

When Tony pulled away, his expression was speculative and thoughtful.

“What?” Gibbs asked, knowing that look. Tony was thinking hard.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

Gibbs shrugged.

“No, I mean the whole thing. Why did you pretend to Creighton like we were together? And why did we lie to your father about it, and why are we continuing to lie about it to him now? There were other ways you could have handled this.”

Gibbs sighed. Refusing to meet Tony’s eyes, he kept his eyes to the floor and they stood silently while Gibbs sorted through his thoughts and carefully chose his words.

“You know I always protect my team,” he finally said.

“I know that,” Tony said impatiently. “I didn’t question your need to bring me into your home, and under your nose. I know you want to keep an eye on me to keep me safe. I knew that. I’m not questioning that.”

Gibbs nodded. Of course Tony wasn’t. Tony knew him better than he knew himself some days.

“Still doesn’t explain why we’re not telling your father the truth about us now that Creighton’s in custody,” Tony said reasonably. “I know you said it’s to make him happy and I’m good with that, but I know that’s not the whole truth. Tell me the truth, Gibbs. Please?”

Gibbs pursed his lips, trying to choose his words. “I have feelings for you,” he finally blurted out.

“Well, Boss, I like you too. But…”

“No, DiNozzo,” Gibbs interrupted. “I have _feelings_ for you.”

“Wh-what kind of feelings?” Tony looked shocked.

Gibbs sighed inwardly. Time to take his father’s advise. Put out or get out. He met Tony’s gaze steadily and tried to say it as calmly as he could. “I love you, DiNozzo,” he managed to get it out without dropping his eyes.

“What?” Tony sputtered.

Gibbs chewed the inside of his mouth and shrugged. He’d said it. Now it was up to Tony to decide what it meant.

“What about Rule Twelve?” Tony asked slowly.

Gibbs shrugged. “We can amend the rule.”

“Just like that?”

A corner of Gibbs’ lips quirked upwards in a hint of a grin. “They’re my rules. I can amend them if necessary.”

Tony made a face. “And how does the whole Creighton situation fit into this? Are you going through some kind of identity crisis and want to do some experimentation into your own sexuality? And you’re looking to me because you now know I’m also interested in men, and conveniently placed for said experimentation? And that’s why you’re throwing your hat in the ring?”

Gibbs grinned for real now. “Nope,” he said clearly. “Not an identity crisis. Had that years before we met,” he admitted. “Done my share of experimentation over the years. But I’ve loved you since you decked me in Baltimore.”

“ _What?_ ” Tony stared at him. “But that was _years_ ago!”

“I know,” Gibbs said as if Tony were a child. “I was there, remember?”

“Why didn’t you say anything before this?”

Gibbs snorted. “It’s not like you were open to me about your interest in men.”

Tony nodded grudgingly. “Guess not.”

“I’m telling you now, though,” Gibbs said softly.

The younger man rolled his eyes. “You’re serious? You’re really serious about this and not just trying to yank my chain?”

Gibbs nodded. “Not yankin’ anybody’s chain.”

“You don’t make it a habit of falling in love with everyone who punches you in the face, do you?” Tony asked suspiciously. “Because I can’t compete with the masses of people who do that.”

Gibbs laughed and shook his head. “Nope. Just you, DiNozzo.”

“You’re fucking serious?” Tony whispered, leaning heavily against the counter, as if his knees were suddenly failing to hold him upright.

Gibbs nodded again. “Never even imagined you would be interested in men, DiNozzo.”

Tony laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, well. I am.”

“That’s good,” Gibbs said softly. “You think you could be… interested…. In me, DiNozzo?”

Tony chuckled again. He shook his head and breathed loudly for a few moments before he looked at Gibbs, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. “Yeah,” he finally answered. “Yeah, I definitely could be interested in you.”

Gibbs smiled and nodded. “Maybe we can go out on a date sometime?”

“Kind of ass backwards though,” Tony remarked conversationally. “I mean, you’ve already introduced me to your dad as your boyfriend, and we’ve slept in your bed together a few nights. And _now_ you’re asking me out on a date?”

Gibbs shrugged.

Tony nodded and continued speaking as if Gibbs had said words. “Yeah, you’re right. Better late than never. We make our own rules in this I guess. Good thing your dad likes me though, huh?”

Gibbs grinned and nodded.

“He really doesn’t mind that we’re together?” Tony was concerned. “Well that we’re going to be together together, even though Jack already thinks we’re together?”

“He told me to tell you how I felt about you before I lost you,” Gibbs admitted. “He thought I was holding back from you and that that was a bad idea.”

Tony gaped at him. “Jackson? Your father, he told you that?”

Gibbs nodded.

Tony snorted. “Huh,” he shook his head. “I should’ve bought him something even better for Christmas than a sweater,” he shook his head.

Gibbs grinned at that. “You being you is a big enough gift for him,” he said. “For me, too.”

“Fuck, Gibbs,” Tony blushed. “Didn’t know you could say such charming shit.”

“Man of hidden talents,” Gibbs grinned as he closed in on the younger man and leaned in for a kiss. He pressed his lips gently on Tony’s, sucking and nibbling on Tony’s delectable lower lip before the younger man moaned, giving Gibbs’ tongue access into his mouth. Tony angled his head a little and they slotted their lips together perfectly, one of Gibbs’ hands cupping the back of Tony’s head, holding him steady as he kissed him thoroughly. Tony was moaning softly into his mouth, making a noise of protest when Gibbs pulled away to breathe.

“I’m not just ordering you into my bed, am I?” Gibbs asked, suddenly concerned.

“I know how to say no,” Tony muttered as he pulled Gibbs back in and kissed him, lips, tongue and teeth working to kiss, nibble, lick and taste Gibbs’ mouth. “Just ask Creighton. I even knifed him to prove my point.”

Gibbs chuckled. “You did nail him good, and not in the way he would’ve wanted.”

“He deserved it.”

Gibbs grunted an agreement, focusing on kissing Tony for long minutes, savoring Tony’s mouth – it tasted of coffee and something else, spicy with an undertone of sweetness. It must be how Tony tasted. Gibbs would have to taste him all over to verify it. “I haven’t wooed you,” Gibbs mumbled in between kisses. “Haven’t had a courtship.”

“You can take me out on as many dates as you want,” Tony assured him.

“Good. Cause I will.”

Tony broke off the kiss with a moan when Gibbs began grinding his hard cock into his. “Bedroom?” he panted, unable to stop himself from rutting against Gibbs, his own cock hard and wanting. “Way too many people trooping through this house lately.”

Gibbs nodded, before he carefully looked at Tony’s head wound. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“You don’t feel how up I am?” Tony grinned mischievously as he ground his hard shaft against Gibbs’.

Gibbs moaned, kissing his way down Tony’s jaw. So far so good. The skin on Tony’s jaw was slightly salty, and smelled like expensive body wash, but there was still a hint of that spicy sweet note underneath it all. “I feel you,” he whispered. “But you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“You can do all the work,” Tony said, impatiently waving off the concern. “I’ll have you know I expect you to fuck me into the mattress and then make excuses for why I might need to sleep it off when your dad gets back.”

Gibbs laughed as Tony squirmed out of his grasp and held his hand out. Gibbs took it, laced their fingers and grinned as Tony led him up to his bedroom.

Afterwards, when they were naked, sweaty, and sticking together, and he was still inside Tony, he ran his fingers tenderly over Tony’s face, caressing his cheekbones, the ridge of his eyes, his eyebrows, eyes, and eyelashes, his forehead, nose, lips and jaw, he sighed. “You’re fucking beautiful, DiNozzo,” he whispered. “In every way possible.”

Tony hummed and smiled, blushing attractively.

“I’ve loved you a long time, and I’ll go on loving you for as long as you’ll let me,” Gibbs continued.

Tony smiled, a new smile. One Gibbs hadn’t ever seen before. A smile full of tenderness and love. “I’ll let you love me for as long as you’ll let me love you.”

Gibbs smiled and claimed his lips, tasting him, savoring him, devouring him and breathing him in, as if he couldn’t get close enough. He felt himself slipping out of Tony’s body and the younger man whimpered softly at the loss. But there was something he needed to say and get out of the way before they got even further down this rabbit hole.

“I’m not good at sharing,” Gibbs finally said, running his fingers carefully through Tony’s hair, skirting around the injury.

Tony grinned. “No shit?” he said facetiously.

“I’m just saying… I’m in this all the way.”

“Gibbs,” Tony’s eyes were serious and he fisted Gibbs’ hair, tugging it and ensuring that the older man was listening to him. “I’ve been faithful to you at work since we met in Baltimore,” he told the man. “I wouldn’t be here with you like this if this were some casual thing. I’d be as faithful to you outside of work as I’ve been at work from now on. It’s just been a long time since I’ve wanted to be faithful to anyone, but I want it with you. But I’m in this with you, too. All the way.”

Gibbs nodded.

“Good. Now can I take a nap?” Tony said around a yawn and a satisfied sigh. “And maybe you can fuck me again after Jack goes to bed tonight.”

“He did say he had earplugs,” Gibbs agreed. “You’re kind of loud.”

“Me? You were the one screaming my name at the end there!”

Gibbs laughed. “I wasn’t the only one screaming,” he finally conceded.

Tony grinned. “We’re going to have to work on you not screaming ‘DiNozzo’ every time though. I do have a first name. Maybe when you’re fucking the bejesus out of me you can use it.”

“I’ll try,” Gibbs grinned. “You were still calling me Gibbs.”

“Jethro’s kind of a mouthful. I couldn’t even remember my own name when you did that, you think I’m going to remember a name that I’m forbidden to use at other times?” Tony scoffed.

Gibbs laughed. “I like Gibbs. I like the way you moan it when you come.”

“But if you want me to call you Jethro, I’ll do it.”

“You do whatever makes you happy, DiNozzo,” Gibbs beamed.

Tony grinned. “You make me happy, Gibbs.”

“Me too,” they kissed softly. “Either way, those earplugs better be some damned good ones,” Gibbs quipped.

Tony laughed, an open, carefree sound. And Gibbs joined in, laughing along with him, thinking that this was exactly what he needed in his life, Tony’s laughter and joie de vivre. At work and away from it. This was exactly where he wanted to be and who he wanted to be with. And wasn’t he a goddamned lucky bastard that Tony wanted the same things too.

**Author's Note:**

> I waited to post my end notes because well, I didn't want to give myself away, right? Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, from prior to the author revelations until now (and also from now on!). I really really appreciate all of you!
> 
> And to those of you who guessed me correctly, well done! And for those who didn't well done as well! It's hard to guess. I got a bunch of wrong guesses of authors as well.
> 
> Now for this one there was definitely a song I used to shape the story. It is [Never Gonna Happen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=38Ph_bXuv4Y) by Lily Allen. It is the song that Tony sings and dances to while he cooks in Chapter 2. And I listened to it obsessively while I wrote most of the story. I so encourage you to click to give it a listen. I will have to think of more fics for more songs by Lily Allen. LOL
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all had a lovely holiday! Happy New Year! May 2017 be a good one for us all! :)
> 
> -j  
> xoxo


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